Two Cousins, One Disaster
by QuinnDeRavensborough
Summary: Minho's cousin Lennon is going visit for a little while, which turns into a lot while, but ends up in a completely different place, (mostly) in the name of fighting the Flare allergy which becomes the Flare virus. Will the two boys and their friends survive the (useless) Trials? Story features all your favorite characters, tons of OCs, and chocolate monsters! Post-modern AU! :D
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first TMR fanfic in English! Unlike my ever so grand Spanish fics, this one will be multi-chapter, and, like my fanfics for other fandoms, will contain (guess who?!) Lennon, whom we all love so much and were hoping would have a happier life. Well, let's see how Lennon and the Gladers fare in the present era. I hope you enjoy!**

Minho Kang sighed as he sat on the bench with his parents. The train was supposed to arrive, like, twenty minutes ago, and it was kind of chilly outside. The sun was already starting to set in the sky, early as usual compared to that train. He wanted to head home soon, where it was nice and warm and there would be no trouble with potential hypothermia and sniffly colds.

Still, he was excited. His cousin Lennon was going to be over for a visit, all the way from Chicago. Minho was used to himself being the one to make visits, which were always fun. But, this time, he would be the host, and he would get to show Lennon around and cause trouble and stuff like that. Also, he would get to introduce Lennon to his friends, who were always a hoot and a holler.

The train finally arrived. Lennon came out, dragging behind him an evergreen suitcase with pink handles and zippers. He smiled at his relatives waiting for him, and walked towards them. They all engulfed him into one big group hug.

"Look how you've grown!" Aunt Gyeong said to him. "You don't get your height from the Kang side of the family, that's for sure."

"It's from my mom's side," Lennon said. "The Schliwinsky's hate the ground, I think."

"How is your family?" Uncle Myeong asked. "Are they doing well?"

"Mom's okay, as always," Lennon replied. "She's now working at a bakery, and she's quite happy there. Jack received a lucrative opportunity to co-lead his organization. Peter hasn't gotten into big trouble in the past few months at all. Whippoorwill, as I'm sure you know, is now engaged. And Harry got fired from the grass seed place, for not being conducive to a happy workplace."

Minho said, "This is nice and all, but can we do our catching up in the car? It's freezing out here."

"It is rather cold," Lennon said. "How long of a drive is it to your house?"

"About thirty minutes," Minho said.

"Sounds about right. When I lived in Pancaketown, that's about how long it took to get to Chicago."

Everyone went over to the car, stuffed Lennon's suitcase into the trunk, and drove up the road, out of Montreal, and northwards to their destination, the little town of Grenouille. They passed a few sheep on the road, I think.

Anyway, they finally reached Grenouille, and they finally reached their destination in Grenouille, which was a small house on the western part of town near the river. The sidewalks were cracked and beat up, and the powerlines were only dimly lit. Next door, there was a house with its Christmas lights on even though it was the wrong time of year, and across the street was an old, creepy church building with a sign on the front saying "Universal Church of Free Use of Recreational Drugs".

"Hmmm…" Lennon said. "Reminds me of Pancaketown."

"Welcome to our home," Aunt Gyeong said, walking towards the small house.

On the inside, the house was warm and cozy, with plump and plush sofas and armchairs in the parlor, and a simple, round wooden table in a kitchen that smelled pleasantly of kimchi and Asian peppers. There were two bedrooms in the house- Minho would have to share his with Lennon, which wouldn't be a problem in the least. Right above the front door, for anyone to see as they left the house, was a small wooden cross.

"My brothers and I were each given one before leaving Korea," Uncle Myeong explained to Lennon. "Have you seen the like in either of their houses?"

"Jack keeps his above his bed," Lennon answered. "I haven't seen Harry keep one around, though. He wouldn't have cared much for it, though, would he?"

After everyone finally got warm to their marrow again, Minho led Lennon into his room. The other day, clothes had been all over the floor, but Minho had been told to clean up his room. Now, the dresser actually was serving its purpose. Also, the bottom bunk would be serving its purpose, instead of waiting in loneliness for someone to sleep on it. Also, somehow Minho had gotten the smell of soy sauce out of the room.

"You can use part of the dresser, if you don't want your clothes to get wrinkled," he offered.

"Thank you," Lennon said. "Still, are you sure there's enough room? Also, could I use the closet, since some clothes will have to be hung up?"

He opened his suitcase. All of his clothes in there were black and white, two colors which made him feel more in his element. When he first met his bio-dad, Jack, he couldn't help but notice that they both dressed in almost exactly the same way.

"Sure," Minho said. "When are you ever gonna add color to your wardrobe?"

"Never," Lennon replied. "There's no need to. Color is too distracting- I don't want to have to stop and think every morning if my red shirt goes with my pink pants, or if my orange blazer with purple scarf will clash."

"So, what're you up for for tonight? I assume you'll want to get settled in and relaxed."

"Of course, of course. I don't want to end up as cranky as you, do I?"

Minho fake punched his cousin.

"Oh, and some of my friends will be coming over tomorrow," he said. "I hope you've brushed up on your French. If you haven't, though, they speak English pretty well."

"We'll see how well I do," Lennon replied. "I haven't been in very many situations where I've had to speak French, though. I mean, I speak Korean and Yiddish at home, English in most other places, Hebrew and Latin for religious services and purposes…"

"Yeah, I really didn't appreciate going to church with you for the first time and not understanding a thing anyone said. And I was totally lost at the synagogue."

"It's perfectly normal for me, so I get along fine in that type of environment. Also, Latin isn't that different from English, so it's easy to get used to, and one-fourth of Yiddish words are Hebrew, I think, so I got a good head start on that."

"Lies. All lies. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably not have passed my English classes and would still say things like, 'I buy from library.'"

Truth be told, Lennon had been practicing his French everyday for months, and was feeling somewhat confident in it. He'd even read _The Phantom of the Opera _in its original French, and had watched reruns of "Toc Toc Toc". That didn't erase any of his nervousness, though. He simply knew there was going to be a mess-up of some kind in his speech.

The evening went by in quite a wonderful, relaxing manner. Lennon chatted with his cousin, aunt, and uncle, and they got to catch up on all the family drama and family happinesses, simply enjoying not rushing through life like a bunch of maniacal maniacs.

The next day, though, would be a little different…

**Page break!**

"Come on, Tom!" Teresa said. "You're lagging behind!"

"Sorry," Thomas answered. "I think I got something in my shoe."

Thomas and Teresa were next door neighbors, and had been best friends practically their whole lives. Thomas was Minho's best friend, but Teresa certainly wasn't. Minho had somewhat of a "He's my best friend- you break his heart, I break your face" kind of personality, and he really had a hard time forgiving Teresa after she did some mean things to Thomas a few years back… like standing him up, then humiliating him, then passive-aggressively manipulating him to the point of total intimidation, &amp;tc., &amp;tc. You get the point. Thomas himself had long gotten over Teresa' past young teen immaturity rubbish, and now adored her more than ever.

The two besties reached Minho's house, and knocked on the door. The knock was answered by Aunt Gyeong. (Honestly, everyone called her by that- she would bring cookies to every city council meeting, and always carried around bandages and iodine in case a child skinned her/his knee and she so happened to be passing by).

"Hello, Thomas," she said. "Hello, Thérèse. How are you two doing?"

"We're doing fine," Thomas replied. He noticed Teresa looking somewhat frustrated. Aunt Gyeong, after years of knowing Teresa, still couldn't get her name correct. It wasn't too bad, other than the fact that one of the most hated teachers in the local school would make that mistake, also.

"Come on in, come on in," Aunt Gyeong said. "There are cookies being made at the moment, and I'll bring them into the parlor for everyone once they're ready."

In the parlor, Minho and Lennon were sitting with Newt and Alby, laughing at some dumb joke about "I gotcha where I wantcha, and now I'm gonna eatcha". They noticed the two newcomers immediately.

"Lennon," Minho said, "this is Thomas. He's gotta be one of the awesomest shanks you could ever meet. And this is his… friend who's a girl, Teresa."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Lennon," Teresa said. "We've all heard a lot about you."

"I've heard a lot about you, also," Lennon replied, smiling.

Teresa suddenly looked horrified, frightened.

Everyone continued on talking. Soon, the cookies were brought in, and everyone was munching pensively.

There was another knock at the front door.

"Who else did you invite?" Lennon asked. "You have a lot of friends, Minho."

Into the parlor walked a girl who looked as if she felt out of place.

"Brenda!" Minho said. "Glad you could come! I want you to meet my cousin Lennon."

"Hello, Lennon," the girl, Brenda said. "I heard you're from Illinois, like me. Chicago, is it?"

"Yes," Lennon replied. "And Pancaketown, though I doubt you've heard of it. Which Illinoisan municipality do you lurk from?"

"Oh, I come from Blue Oak Reservation," Brenda said, "across the Sabaidi-Sawatdi River. I lived there until my dad decided he hadn't spend enough time with me as a kid, so he moved me all the way to his new house in Quebec. I've only been here less than a year."

"The Blue Oak Reservation… I've heard of that place. That's where Ella used to live."

"Ella?" Minho asked. "You mean that devil woman who dared to break your heart into a million pieces?!"

"I miss having her as my extra special friend," Lennon mused. "Still, if she's gonna have that attitude and that mean and cruel behavior, I don't think it would have been emotionally and socially healthy for us to stick around together."

Since it's dull to just talk about small talk (though, my fanfiction often specializes in long conversations), I'll just skip to the part where someone suggests they all do something.

"Let's all do something," Alby said. He was getting bored of sitting down and listening to small talk. He was a doer, kind of. Not really. I'm not quite sure.

So, they all piled into Newt's minivan (because he knew how to drive), and they decided to go all the way to the town across the bridge, Les Lunettes, and stop at their super high-class karaoke bar with its own area specifically for throwing your peanut shells on the floor. In one corner was a super hygienic ball pit for the kiddies, and in another was a stand where a woman was selling some news magazine about aliens genetically engineering human babies. There was also a stage in this karaoke bar, with a karaoke machine, for singing.

"Let's order a pizza!" Thomas said. "I'm hungry!"

"You're always thinking about your stomach," Minho said. "Didn't you have enough cookies at my place? We should try out the arcade. I heard there's a new game where you're supposed to be drag racing! That sounds fun!"

A waiter walked up just then. His name tag said "Gally".

"I don't know about the virtual drag racing," he said, "but our karaoke performances are up, and our theme for this whole month is drag shows. What do you say? Wanna impress the audience?"

"What audience?" Lennon asked. "There's barely anyone in here."

"There's that lady over there," Gally the waiter replied. "I bet it's awful boring just sitting there trying to sell magazines. I mean, hockey cards would be different. But alternative news sources? Puh-leaze!"

"You look familiar…"

"Lots of folks say that. It's because I've got an unforgettable face."

"I just now remember! You're Schemsel Respiropesce-Schallamach's youngest child!"

"Don't you dare mention my father's name to me! He thinks he can get away with condescending me in front of countless souls merely because I am the youngest and ugliest!"

"That's total klunk, man," Minho said. "There's always a good reason to publically condescend someone. You should try it some time. And, Lennon, how do you know this guy?"

Lennon replied, "The Respiropesce-Schallamach family was at my mother's class reunion. Apparently, she and Mr. Respiropesce-Schallamach were dating all four years of high school."

"Ew!" Gally said. "My dad and your mom together? I bet they kissed. That's so disgusting!"

"So," Brenda inquired, "you're from Illinois also?"

"Nope," Gally replied. "I was born in Naples. At the age of five, my family moved over to the north part of Yukon, and over here. I hate moving. But, I'm probably gonna be moving to Grenouille next week, because I've got a lucrative job opportunity."

"Really?" Teresa asked. "Where will you be working?"

She thought this Gally guy was kind of cute, and couldn't wait to live in the same town as him. She kind of still liked Thomas, though. Maybe she'd have _two _boyfriends…

Gally replied, "I'll be ditching my job as a waiter to work as assistant to Dr. Archibald Janson."

Brenda gasped.

"That's my dad!" she exclaimed, with utter shock.

Just then, a cow fell through the roof of the karaoke bar.

"Moo!" it said evilly. It started shooting at Lennon, Minho, their friends, Gally, and the magazine lady with water pistols. Only, instead of water, the pistols contained grape juice, therefore staining their clothes.

"We need to call the police!" Alby shouted. "That cow shouldn't be allowed to ruin our clothes with grape juice!"

"I am not a cow!" the cow said. "I am a human!"

The cow pulled off its "head", which just so happened to be a mask, revealing the head of a pale man with a long, weasley nose and thinning white hair.

"I shall demolish all of your garments, rendering you bait for the flies which I shall cook into a pie to eat tonight!" the man said.

"Dad!" Brenda said, crossly. "Why on earth are you doing this?!"

"So we can have dinner for tonight," the man, Dr. Janson, replied. "Don't you like to eat fly pies?"

"No!" Brenda replied. "I'm a vegan, for goodness' sake! I don't approve of exploiting creatures the way you exploit those flies! And I also don't approve of crashing through roofs and staining people's clothes! I'll never get to wear this blouse ever again!"

"You're such a stick in the mud." Janson shook a disapproving hoof at his daughter. "Someday you'll notice just how fun I am, and you'll want to join my side in the divorce feud."

"I'll always side with Mom on that issue," Brenda replied.

"Come on, fellas," Minho said. "Let's leave this dumb karaoke bar. It hasn't been fun."

"Let's go to the thrift shop next door," Newt suggested. "We need new clothes after that grape juice shooting, and I've got twenty dollars in my pocket. That'll split between all of us, right?"

So everyone, including Gally and the magazine-selling lady, bought a new outfit from the thrift shop.

"How come you girls didn't just take clothes from the back of the stage of the karaoke bar?" Gally asked. "It was all women's clothes, anyway, and my manager wouldn't have cared."

"Because those clothes are all what men _think _women wear," Brenda replied.

"Believe it or not," Teresa added, "men really don't notice what a woman is wearing. No one on this whole entire planet is attentive. Except my parents. They're always telling me to change into 'something different' before I head to school. They think socks with sandals aren't appropriate or decent fashion choices, even though it's totally in style these days."

The thrift shop clerk was busy typing up the receipt for all the clothes on the thrift shop's new and recently updated typewriter. The price for all the clothes came to about twenty dollars, I think. The clerk kept making faces at Gally, who was laughing uncontrollably.

"That's my friend Ben," he explained to Newt.

"Looks like a slinthead," Newt mused. "Are you sure he's your friend, and not just hanging out with you for your money?"

"I don't have money," Gally said. "That's why I work at karaoke bars and for mad scientists."

"My dad is not a mad scientist!" Brenda said indignantly. "He's a horrifyingly lunatic scientist, that's what he is!"

Just then, someone ran into the thrift shop.

"There's a fire!" she hollered. "A fire, I tell you! A fire!"

"Harriet, what on earth are you talking about?" Alby asked. (He used to date her, but now that they lived in different towns, they decided to postpone their relationship).

"A fire, that's what I'm talking about!" Harriet held up a fire extinguisher, and pressed the extinguishing button. Out shot tons of maple syrup, getting over the clothes that everyone had just bought.

"Someday, Harriet," Thomas said, "you need to actually remember to keep Sonya with you."

"But I don't like her," Harriet replied. "She keeps syringes around just in case she needs to sedate me. She actually has a license to do stuff like that."

Everyone decided to go back to Grenouille. At least they could expect a little less unexpected wildness over there, and maybe not have to worry about getting their clothes dirty.

**Suggestions are welcome! Be sure to review and follow! I don't know when the next update will be, so, until then, stay giggley! **


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's probably my "holiday update", or whatever all the jolly, festive people like to call these sort of... updates. I mean, there'll be barely any mention of holidays or celebrations in this chapter, but that's okay. **

**_Slight _****content warning: I kind of mention being "racially white" in a humorous manner. I hope it doesn't offend any of you-all. As a pasty-skinned Metis person, I thought I could get away with humorously laughing at such a patriarchal concept. (I mean, there really is no purpose of dividing people into races, is there? But that's a discussion for another time.)**

**I hope you enjoy this! **

"Minho!" Lennon whispered, shaking his cousin. "Are you asleep? Wake up! I think someone's walking on the roof!"

Yawning, Minho blurted out, "It's two o' clock in the morning! What're you even doing awake?"

"As I've said, there's obviously some creeper up on the roof!" Lennon looked genuinely concerned. "Does this normally happen around here? Is that why your deportment at this very moment is so nonchalant?"

"Do me a favor, and never use words like that again when I'm still half-asleep."

"Words like what?"

Minho groaned.

"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," he said. "I bet it's just Santa Claus or Daddy Christmas or Lady Befana or someone like that…"

"First of all," Lennon replied, "we're too old to believe in folks like that. But, second of all, and more importantly of all, it's not even the Christmas season. Therefore, even if someone was going around dressed as them, why would they be doing it right now? And why on this very roof?'

"You seem to forget that only a few days ago someone dressed up as a cow and squirted us with grape juice. Remember that? After witnessing _that_, it wouldn't be surprising if someone dressed as a Christmas character and caused a ruckus."

Minho rolled over and went back to sleep, but Lennon kept hearing sounds on the roof.

The sounds kept coming and coming and coming.

It was too much to handle.

"I'll first go check outside," Lennon muttered to himself. "Then, I'll decide how to handle the situation. If it's a creeper who needs to be tranquilized, or something, I might have to call the police. I just first have to remember the number to call 911… I'll have to look it up in the phone book, maybe."

He walked out of the bedroom, went through the parlor and to the front door. Gulping nervously, he crossed himself, then slowly opened the door handle. Creeping outside, he looked up at the roof.

"Brenda?!" he gasped. "What on earth are you doing up there?"

"Hi, Lennon!" Brenda greeted. "Sorry about this. My dad wants me to scout out just in case his arch-nemesis tries to come and foil his plans."

"Oh…" Lennon couldn't help but think that this was extraordinarily weird. "Well, I hope you have a fun time acting as a scout. What does that one racially stereotyped character say? 'Kemo sabe'? Yeah, the whole 'faithful scout' thing. Oh, well. Good night." Right before he went back into the house, though, he thought of something. "Hey, Brenda! You want tea or hot chocolate or something?"

"Sure," she replied. "Could you bring me some green tea?"

"With honey? That helps with colds and stuff and tastes perfect."

"You mean bee vomit? Arthropodal cud? No thank you. Just put in one or two teaspoonfuls of sugar."

Lennon prepared a green tea with sugar for Brenda, and a chai with sugar and milk for himself. He then went outside, and he climbed the trellis to get on top of the roof.

"Here's your tea," he said.

"Thanks," she answered, taking a sip of hers. "What type did you get?"

"Chai," he replied, "with sugar and milk."

"Hmmm…" She didn't look too happy.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry- I shouldn't react like this, I guess. It's dairy milk, isn't it?"

"Um… Yeah?"

"It just… It breaks my heart to know how humans have been hurting the other animals in the biosphere, and to see someone participating in something like that."

"But how does dairy consumption hurt the cows? It's not killing them. I mean, not all farms are factory farms. Some treat their cows really well."

"All I can say is that when my mother was pregnant with me, she didn't want anyone messing with her to steal the milk that was supposed to go to me. She figured that cows and goats and camels and llamas all think the same thing."

"Oh…"

Lennon decided that once he was a little more awake he'd rethink the dairy industry.

"You mentioned not killing cows," Brenda said. "Are you a vegetarian?"

"Yeah," Lennon replied. "You can't imagine how shocked everyone gets when they learn that, as if it's the weirdest thing in the world."

"I've been asked a bajillion times whether or not I eat fish…"

"Me too! And I also get asked about 'humane killing', and stuff like that. It gets so frustrating!"

"Do you ever get asked questions like, 'What do you eat?' or 'What's that actually like?'"

"Yup. It gets _so _annoying."

"Over the years, I've gotten so touchy about the subject of animal rights that I barely ever go to potlucks or certain get-togethers because I can't stand the sight of all those dead animals and their secretions…" Brenda sighed.

Lennon was quiet. He didn't know how to reply.

Brenda then said, "You know, there's a vegan restaurant over in Montreal that folks have been telling me is really great. Maybe we can try it out together sometime. You know, so I don't have to go alone."

"Okay," Lennon said. "You seem a decent enough person to go to a restaurant with."

Brenda laughed.

"Decent enough?" she inquired. "I guess that's better than what you could have said. I mean, you could have told me I'm just some creeper who climbs on roofs, so why in the blue blazes should you be going into town with me?"

Lennon laughed. Soon, the two of them were laughing together.

Brenda was deciding that Lennon was cool. He was nicer, and seemed more sensitive, than his cousin. Every time in the past few days when she'd talked to him, she felt better about herself, and, she felt a little more optimistic about her uncertain future. (Because, as we all know, it's not easy having to live with a mad scientist).

"So, Lennon, who are some of your friends back in Chicago?"

Smiling, Lennon said, "My best friend is Matthew. I was really shy when I first moved to Chicago, and he was one of the first people to talk to me. Ever since then, we've been closer than you'd think. We're almost always spending the night with each other, either at my family's houses or the community service commune his moms live in."

"Your family has more than one house?"

"My mom and Harry have one house, Jack has another."

"It's sort of like my parents. My mom's been living at Blue Oak Reservation her whole life, but my dad's been wandering around, searching for trouble to cause. I miss my mother, and my BFFs Rosie and Lilly. They're all awesome, and they're all far, far away. Oh, and by the way, I don't go by the last name Janson, since I identify more with my mom."

"What last name do you go by?"

"I go by…"

"Brenda Andersson!" Minho exclaimed accusingly as he climbed the trellis onto the roof. "What are _you _doing here this early in the morning?!"

"None of your business, Minho!" Brenda scowled.

"Lennon, why are you here talking to her?" Minho asked. "You're just encouraging her to stay and keep me awake! Brenda, if you don't leave right now, I'm gonna call the police!"

"But she isn't doing anything that'll hurt anyone," Lennon said.

"Yeah," Brenda added. "I'm just sitting on the roof, pretending to be on the look-out."

"I don't care!" Minho's face was red as an angry chameleon's. "What you're doing is called trespassing, and that's against the law!"

"But Lennon didn't tell me to leave," Brenda said. "Therefore, I simply assumed that it was alright to stay up here."

Minho glared at Lennon. But then, he looked back at Brenda.

"Well," he said, "I guess I can't argue with that sort of excuse. At least Lenny here wasn't allowing someone like Teresa or that dingbat Aris on the roof. I hate those guys!"

With that, Minho climbed off the roof and went back into the house.

Later on that day… Or was it the next day?... Halmeoni came to town. She was Minho and Lennon's paternal grandmother, an ancient, revered lady who had decided to move to North America after receiving the news that, number one, her sons were faring well and successfully over there, and, number two, that her husband had run off to Gangnam, got a facelift to look younger, and became a one-hit wonder based off a ridiculous dance he did in a music video. She simply couldn't live with that reputation! Anyways, she decided to buy a house in Minnesota, because she loved the weather there, and vowed to visit her grandchildren as frequently as possible. Which, sadly, that wasn't always possible, because she got a lucrative job opportunity to work as a lounge singer.

Anyway, she reached Grenouille, and it came as quite a surprise to Aunt Gyeong and Uncle Myeong, who hadn't received any calls or letters in advance saying that she was coming.

"Eomeoni!" Uncle Myeong exclaimed, as he saw his mother come out of her red sports car which she'd parked right in front of the house for all the neighbors to see. "You didn't call ahead or write ahead in advance to say that you were coming!"

"I knew you'd be totally chill about it, though," Halmeoni said. "That's why I just sped my way right up here. Now, where are the grandchitlins? I heard that one was over visiting, and I know your own one sure is always happy to see me."

Out of the house burst Minho and Lennon.

"Halmeoni!" Minho exclaimed. "You're here!"

"Halmeoni!" Lennon exclaimed. "You're here!"

"Of course I'm here!" Halmeoni replied. "Now, please help your little old grandmother up the stoop into the house. With all these cracks in the pavement I just might trip and fall. Be mindful, I have a trick knee. Don't do what your fathers did to me on Whippoorwill's bat mitzvah."

Just then, Newt walked by with a basket of vegetables.

"Hey, you're the British kid, aren't you?" Halmeoni inquired.

"Um… Yeah?" Newt replied. "Aunt Gyeong, my mother said that these were for you."

"Thank you," Aunt Gyeong said, walking down the stoop to take the basket of veggies. "Tell your mother that I'll have that quilt ready in about a week."

Newt was quiet. His eyes wandered, then opened way wide.

"Whoa!" he said. "Look at that car! Is that a 1983 Velociraptor Razor Convertible 4000?!"

"It sure is," Halmeoni said. "I payed for it with some of the money my husband got for his music video."

"That's totally sick!" Newt said, still ogling the car. "Can I take a selfie of myself next to it?"

"Why not?"

After his selfie, Newt said he had to skeedaddle, so he skeedaddled off in the direction of his house.

Once Halmeoni was inside and placed in the rocking chair (which moved forward every time it got rocked back and forth; Minho called it the Moving Chair, because he's creative like that), she said, "Now, I wanna know what's up with the kids. When my boys would come home from school when they were little, they'd always tell me everything that happened. Except Youngsoo, Harry. He would always be mean and sit in a corner, scowling at everyone. So, kiddos! Tell me what's up in your lives?"

Minho said, "Everything's good. Pretty good. Except I keep seeing that awful girl Teresa, because she keeps hanging out with Thomas. I don't see how he can stand her! She fills me with a rage every time I hear her name!"

"Every time you see her," Halmeoni said, "you should do what I always do when I have to see the woman who stole my man years ago, forcing me to marry that CPA-turned-singer."

"What do you do?"

"I give her a hug, and say, 'You smell so different when you're awake'."

Minho and Lennon laughed and laughed at that.

"So, Lennon," Halmeoni said, "what's new in your life?"

"Well," Lennon said, "nothing much. I recently went up on a roof for the first time."

"I remember my first time up on a roof… I decided to jump down, and I barely even got hurt."

"Eomeoni!" Uncle Myeong sounded absolutely and utterly shocked. "Don't give them any ideas! Just the other day, Minho…"

"Oh, kids will be kids!" Halmeoni said gleefully. "Now, Minho, how's it going with you and that one girl? Dorindabelle, I think her name was?"

Blushing, Minho replied, "She wasn't interested in me. She liked a guy with bigger pecs."

"How dare she?!" Halmeoni looked appalled. "I better go over to wherever she is and give her a piece of my mind! I'll shout it all in Korean, though, so she has to lie awake at night for the rest of her life, wondering what I was even saying to her! If there's one thing I absolutely can't stand, it's someone choosing one person over another for garrulous reasons! I mean, Minho, you're a thousand times awesomer of a guy than some fellow with humongous pecs! Why's she gotta turn you down for the Rock's teenage twin? Huh?"

Minho laughed.

"And, Lennon," Halmeoni said, "is that Ella girl still bothering you?"

"Not much," Lennon replied. "I still can't quite get over her, though. Oh, and I made eye contact with her once. We just so happened to be at a peace convention at the same place same time. It was awkward."

"But you both kept the peace, though, right?"

"Halmeoni, we didn't even regard each other's existence."

"As you should in that situation. I ignore tons of people, all day, all the time."

The two shanks talked with their grandmother for quite some time.

Finally, she stood up, and said, "Well, I gotta see what Gyeong and Myeong are doing. They're probably trying to cook me some dinner, which, as you-all know, I'm picky about how I get served."

With that, she left the parlor and walked straight into the kitchen. Minho and Lennon heard her holler about "back in her day" folks doing such and such while fermenting cucumbers and leaving the eyes in the herring and not drinking sauce straight from the bottle.

"Sometimes," Lennon said, "she makes _us_ seem polite."

"Yeah," Minho agreed. "But we love her."

"Of course."

The two of them walked down into the basement, where the TV was kept.

"Let's watch that movie we got from the video store the other day," Minho suggested.

"Which one?" Lennon asked. "Didn't we get two?"

"Oh, you're right!"

The DVDs had been left on the davenport. Minho picked both of them up. One title was "The Fault In Our Stars", the other title was "The Maze Runner".

"That second one sure looks lame-o," Lennon said. "I mean, if I didn't know any better, I'd think it was an exercise video, or something."

"Yeah," Minho agreed. "I think it's based off of some book. Let's watch this first movie."

Towards the end of "The Fault In Our Stars", Minho was bawling his eyes out.

"It's just not fair!" he said. "Why'd that have to happen to Hazel and Augustus? They were so young!"

Lennon shrugged his shoulders.

"It's too bad," he said. "I guess it had to happen, though, or how else would this have made a great movie? Well, book. I read the book."

Through tears, Minho replied, "Don't tell anyone I reacted like this to this movie. In fact, don't tell anyone I watched it. And, if you do tell anyone I watched it, I simply watched it because you wanted to."

"Aye, aye."

As the film credits rolled, Minho commented, "I'm crying even harder now than when I saw 'Titanic'. And '101 Dalmatians'."

"How did '101 Dalmatians' make you cry? It ends perfectly happily, with none of the puppies getting hurt or dying."

"But I was so scared that something horribly awful would happen to them, and that they wouldn't get home safely. For a small child, that movie is traumatizing."

"I liked it. It was a commentary on the slave trade, the fur trade, and all those other awful trades, but it ends with good triumphing over evil. Plus, also, they're all British."

The sound of knocking on a door came from upstairs, and then the door opening and closing. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Alby and Thomas entered the basement.

"Oh, my word!" Alby said. "Not to sound like a white person and all, but… Hey! What movie are you watching?"

Before the DVD cases could be hidden, Alby swiped them.

"This 'Maze Runner' movie looks cool," he said. "But seriously, dudes? You guys are also watching a sappy romance?"

"It was very heartwarming and heart touching," Lennon explained.

"Bro, you gotta watch something that'll keep your mind from becoming Play-Do!"

"Well, I watched a documentary yesterday, and that certainly was some awesome brain food."

Alby shrugged.

"I guess if you balance it out with something like that," he said, "you can't go wrong."

"Not that I like romances all that much," Lennon continued. "I mean, I watched this one, and it was cool, but most are not something I can relate to. I mean, the concept of romantic feelings is unrealistic. I believe in friendships on various levels, and I guess some people are drawn together by the hots, but the traditional stereotype of how couples feel for each other? Rubbish!"

"He's an ace," Minho explained to his friends. "They don't have traditional relationships, or traditional feelings."

"I haven't passed my eighteenth birthday," Lennon told his cousin. "Until then, my identity and feelings are ambiguous."

"I'm sure you're gonna have the same orientation by the time you roll over in the grave," Minho said. "I mean, you're almost eighteen, anyway."

Thomas looked horrified, somewhat, but then he said, "You know, when I'm with Teresa…"

Minho interrupted, "Don't mention that maven of good will around me, shuckhead!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Alby said. "Cool it, Minho! There's no need to use words like that!"

"Who are you to judge what I say?" Minho asked harshly. "I mean, you're the one coming in and criticizing the movies I watch!"

"The only reason you're saying such mean things about Teresa," Thomas said, "is because you're schlepping such harsh, horrible grudges against her! Why can't you just let it go?"

"Ooh!" Alby said. "You just mentioned my jam. Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back any more…"

"I'm not schlepping grudges!" Minho said. "I'm perfectly content with the grudges!"

Just then, into the basement ran Halmeoni.

"Do I hear somebody making my little grandboy upset?!" she hollered. She was carrying two pies in her hands. "Take that!" She threw one at Alby, which hit him right in the face. "And take that!" She also threw one at Thomas, which also hit him in the face. "Nobody makes fun of or pokes at my grandchildren's touchy subjects!" With that, she rushed back upstairs, probably to go eat pie.

"Um…" Thomas said. "Who was that?"

"That's Halmeoni," Lennon explained. "You get used to her. The Kang mischpoche is sometimes known for its apparent mischegas."

"The Schliwinsky family must be extremely calm in that case," Thomas said. "You're not one tenth without self-control as Minho is."

"I will say that my mother and her relatives are rather zenned out," Lennon admitted. "Still, I don't know if I could be qualified as part of that crowd."

"Yeah," Minho said. "Did I tell you yet? At, like, zero o'clock in the morning, or something, he was on the roof with Brenda, chatting up a storm!"

Alby exclaimed, "You were on the roof with Brenda?! What was she doing here?! That's so weird and creepy!"

"Lennon didn't seem to think so," Minho commented. "I guess Illinoisans have a different definition of trespassing and curfew. Anyway, Alby, what were you saying before you took notice of my rented DVDs?"

Alby thought a moment.

"Oh, yeah," he said, suddenly remembering. "I've got horrible news."

"And what is this 'horrible news', that makes you sound like a white person?" Minho raised an eyebrow. He remembered Alby's controversial statement from a few moments ago! There's no way he's forgetting that!

"I just noticed I'm the only white person in here…" Thomas muttered.

"I'm white, also," Lennon said. "And Asian. Isn't genealogy so fun? The other day, I was on , and they came out with an article that said…"

"Hey, I'm talking about my own news over here," Alby interrupted. "Anyway, the showing of _Mamma Mia_ I was going to go see next month is cancelled! Isn't that the most horrible thing you've ever heard?!"

"Horrible," Minho said. "Absolutely horrible. Not like I even care about that musical, though. I mean, I'll be happy as long as that production of _Urinetown _doesn't get cancelled."

"Can we go back to the topic of being white?" Thomas asked. "I mean, I really want to complain about blinding everyone during swimming suit season."

"What a garrulous problem," Alby said.

"Yeah!" Minho added. "Why not talk to us about…"

"Okay, Minho," Lennon said, putting a hand over his cousin's mouth. "Before this friendly conversation becomes a heated debate on racial privilege and rights, let's not mention the millennia of depressing histories. We can discuss this when you're feeling calmer and less likely to act like Halmeoni."

"Did someone say my name?" Halmeoni inquired, running down into the basement. "I hope you-all aren't talking about me behind my back! I'm watching you!"

With that, she went back upstairs, hollering something about how "back in her days" kitchens were such-and-such without that-and-that and this-such. The fellas in the basement couldn't help but laugh.

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have any suggestions, please review or message me! **

**Happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Yule, Kwanzaa, that-holiday-from-Bear-in-the-Big-Blue-House, &amp;tc.! Don't get tummy-aches from all the awesome food, all you-all! And, if anyone reading this is a Jehovah's Witness, simply have a great day! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hurray! It's time for another chapter of this story! (Which, I probably should be working on my other story, since I kind of think I left on a cliff-hanger, last I remember...) I hope you enjoy it! By the way, if any of you readers are interested in wild ideas, if you'd like to, why not read my short(ish) post on AVEN about my postulation that TMR might be an (accidental) allegory about asexuality! The link is www . asexuality en/ topic/ 111724 - potential - asexual - allegory/**

**Be sure to enjoy this chapter! :)**

Unbeknownst to most, Thomas had a darling sister. Her name was Jennifer, or, rather, Jenny for short. (Because two syllables are easier to say than three). She and him didn't look too much related, but they both had light brown hair and had spoke with a slight lisp that they didn't realize they had until it'd been pointed out to them by someone who professionalized in speech therapy. (Thankfully, barely any of their friends had noticed, or else they would have ended up with a special place in their secondary school's yearbook. How embarrassing that would be!)

Jenny had been so gleefully happy for weeks, because her boyfriend Gally would be moving into town soon to work for the local mad scientist, the evil Dr. Archibald Janson. She loved Gally _sooooooooo _much, because he was ever so dashing, elegant, charming, &amp;tc., &amp;tc. He was the best boyfriend ever, because every Thursday night, he took her out for ice cream and spitting contests by the bridge by the river. They were someday going to get married and have a big white wedding, or whatever you call those boring events.

It used to be the case, back in middle school when all the girls were taller than the boys, that Jenny had an _enormous _crush on Minho. She used to look at his Myspace posts every night, giggling at his atrociously poor grammar. That is, until she saw the photos he put up of him visiting his dweeby gothic cousin Lennon, who just wasn't a teenybopper, and therefore was a not-so-cool influence. She lost all regard for Minho, who was bound to someday stop listening to trashy pop for the sake of joining a more interesting music scene.

So of course, she was peeved when her parents invited the Kang family over for dinner. Why did they haven't to ruin her night, when she'd already been planning on talking to Gally on the phone till three in the morning? To make matters worse, she was made to sit next to some old lady named Halmeoni, who had, like, the most annoying voice ever.

"So, Jennifer," Halmeoni said, slurping her soup, "do you have any hobbies? When I was your age, my girlfriends and I would stow away on cargo ships to get to Japan so we could do shopping at the Ginza. We also liked to drop water balloons on people's heads."

"Um…" Jenny didn't know how to reply. "Well, shopping is fun, but I can't say that I've ever been to the Ginza. But, wait, you aren't already Japanese?"

Halmeoni laughed out loud.

"Of course not!" she replied. "I come from South Korea!"

Jenny was, like, so totally embarrassed!

"So," Halmeoni continued, "I so heard that you used to be friends with my little Minho."

"Halmeoni…" Minho said, embarrassed at being called "little".

Halmeoni, ignoring her grandson, continued, "And you would go and visit him about as much as Thomas would. Now, it looks like just Thomas is doing the visiting, but that's okay. I doubt you have any prejudices keeping you from being friendly to other people. Why, you must have _tons _of friends!"

Jenny and Thomas's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien, coughed and cleared their throats nervously.

"So, who likes the soup?" Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien inquired. Then, she remembered, and her face went bright red. Aunt Gyeong had called ahead to remind her that Lennon was vegetarian, but Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien completely forgot to make another option for the main course. (Well, considering how squid-and-possum brain soup was her favorite, it was easy for her to forget her guests' dietary restrictions).

"Oh, it's as tasty as ever," Aunt Gyeong said.

"You cook immaculately," Uncle Myeong added.

"It's sure good, that's for sure," Minho complimented.

"Meh," Halmeoni said, "I could do better."

"Um… Lennon?" Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien inquired, "Are you enjoying your… bread and salad?"

"Oh, yes, most definitely!" Lennon commented. "Did you make the bread?"

"Um, actually, yes." Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien smiled, glad that no ill will was being projected at her. "I try to make sure the house is always stocked each week with fresh bread. The only time it isn't is when I'm on vacation or sick."

Thomas said, "But that rarely happens. And, when it does, Dad always makes her his special healing stew. She rarely is sick for long."

"It's not special healing stew," Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien said, smiling. "It's just stew that helps her feel better, that's all."

"So, Lennon," Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien said, "since the Boulanger-O'Briens like the Kangs so much, we really should get to know you. You've graduated, or so I've heard."

"Yes," Lennon said. "I'll be going to college soon."

"What major will you be?"

Lennon was tired as can be of people asking him that, when he really had no idea what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. So he lied.

"I'm double majoring in Gynecology and Queer Studies."

Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien spit the water he was drinking out of his mouth and over the food. Jenny looked shocked as can be. Minho, Halmeoni, and Thomas were laughing, and Aunt Gyeong and Uncle Myeong were trying to suppress a chuckle.

"I'm just joshing you," Lennon said to the red-faced Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien. "I really don't know what field of study I want to go into."

"Well, this was fun," Jenny said. "May I please be excused?"

"But darling!" Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien protested. "Nobody's even eaten dessert yet!"

"But Mom!"

"No buts, young lady. You need some sugar in your system, as well as plenty of trans fats to keep your body tolerant of disgusting things that you may have to consume when the entire earth sinks into poverty and there's nothing good left to consume."

Jenny scowled.

"Anyways, Lennon," Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien continued, "I'm sure you'll find the right thing somewhere along the way. So, do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Lennon replied, "There's my half-sister Whippoorwill, and my godbrother Peter. Honestly, though, I sometimes feel like an only child, if that makes sense."

"I had ten brothers and sisters. I'm not quite sure I would recognize the only child feeling even if it was ever present."

"With the amount of time Jenny spends in Montreal," Thomas said, "I certainly understand what it's like to be an only child. I guess not in as ethereal a manner as you, though, Lennon."

Jenny said, "I like Montreal. It's easy to blend in and be ignored in those big cities. Over here in the small town, I risk being said hello to whenever I walk down the street."

Before dinner had started, Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien had locked his pet alligator Kiko in his and his wife's bedroom, so she wouldn't scare the guests. Just then, though, as the conversation went from talking about siblings to talking about Jenny's unsociable behavior, Kiko escaped the bedroom and rushed into the dining room where everyone was eating.

She glared about at everyone sitting at the table. Normally, she got to eat there for dinner, also. How come tonight she had to eat all alone, all by her lonesome self? She saw Minho sitting at the seat she normally sat at. That made her so angry, not just at this insolent fool using her favorite chair, but also at her pet humans for letting this insolent fool use her favorite chair!

She started barking ferociously at Minho, so he'd leave and so she could take her place as rightful ruler of the table! Too bad he just scowled at her and went on eating. So Kiko took Minho's almost empty bowl and ran away with it, going up the stairs. She hid it in a super secret spot, and no one found it afterwards. What I do know is this: What little food that was left in there got all moldy, and eventually took on a life of its own and ran off to Oklahoma, where it started a folk-rock-polka band.

Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien put Kiko back in the bedroom, scolding her. So Kiko scolded him back. They both told each other that they were terribly naughty pets, and should be made to wear hideous pet sweaters. (Not that any sweater could be more hideous than the one Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien was wearing at the moment. _That's _for sure!)

Meanwhile, Jenny complained about how she hadn't eaten any deep-fried Oreos in a week, and was therefore feeling altogether too healthy. Sighing, Thomas commented on how he hadn't had chocolate in over four years, almost five, due to a terrible allergy.

"I'm sick and fed up with carob," he said. "It's okay and all, but it's just not the same as good, old chocolate."

"I know, honey," Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien said sympathetically. "But, like the Rolling Stones say, 'You can't always get what you want; but if you try sometime, you might just find, you get what you need.'" (By the way, I really like that song!)

Lennon said, "My mother, actually, is working on a way to perform therapy on those who have chocolate allergies. She's actually collaborating with someone who, I think, lives around here. Maybe she can…"

"That someone is _me_!" a sinister voice said, as a figure walked into the dining room.

"Dr. Janson!" Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien exclaimed. "You never said you'd be visiting tonight!"

"Of course," Dr. Janson replied, taking Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien's seat at the table. (The latter was still having an argument with Kiko). He started munching on a carrot that he had in the front pocket of his orange-and-purple-and-brown polo. "I always like to come fashionably uninvited. Anyway, young Lennon, your mother finally found the Cure for chocolate allergies, which, as you may know, she and I like to call the Flare. She's about to send the blueprints to me, and I am planning on starting a clinic somewhere on the outskirts of town."

"The Flare?" Thomas inquired. "Why do you call it that?"

"Because," Dr. Janson explained, "before horrifying sun flares hit the Earth, causing the death of the dinosaurs, dragons, unicorns, and carebears, no one was allergic to chocolate. Now, though, it's otherwise. The Flare is one of the worst curses to befall humankind!"

"What about death?" Jenny asked. "I mean, that's a pretty horrible curse, isn't it? Or do you actually like death? Is that why your clandestine, underground human slaughterhouse…"

"Anyway," Dr. Janson continued, "tomorrow, my new assistant will arrive. And, after I make him rub my aching feet, I will make him set up a chair so I can begin my plan."

"So, before you even have a clinic, you'll start performing the Cure on people?" Minho asked.

Laughing, Dr. Janson said, "Pish-poo-poo! No! I've got to do preliminary Trials, you see, to see if the Cure actually works, because I didn't actually help Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang find it or discover it. So, you see, I can't be sure of anything. See?"

Thomas whispered to Minho and Lennon, "I'm beginning to think, if I'm going to have to medically trust this guy, being able to eat chocolate again won't be worth it."

Later on, after dinner, Thomas, Minho, and Lennon were hanging out in Thomas's bedroom. The floor was covered in a bright pink rug, and the bedspread was green while the bedframe was blue. There was a squatty dresser with a cedar wardrobe on top of it. And, on all the walls, there were tons of pictures and posters of Zubaida Tharwat, Thomas's celebrity crush. (Seriously, look her up. She just so happens to be the look-alike of the greatest and awesomest actress of our era. It's so unexpected!)

"Dude," Minho said, picking up a gossip magazine that was on Thomas's night table, "this guy is annoying. How can you stand reading something that has him on the front cover?"

The front cover had a picture of some actor named Ki Hong Lee, with a few too many top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. The headline said "Newly Risen-to-Fame Actor Gets New Girlfriend For Every Movie? (Gasp!)", and there were little mug pictures of smiley, plastic-faced young women along the edge of the magazine.

"And those are all his girlfriends?" Lennon inquired. "Oh, wait. This is one of those tabloid things, isn't it?"

"It sure is," Thomas replied, snatching the magazine out of Minho's hands. "And I like reading it, because it's _way _more interesting than the regular news!"

Pensively, Lennon said, "Do you think that lady at the karaoke bar sells magazines for cheaper than the supermarket? I mean, I'm not into celebrity gossip. I just want to read the stuff about aliens and UFOs and Bigfoot, and I don't want to waste too much money."

"Beats me." Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, check this out! I got it at the mall yesterday."

Thomas opened up the wardrobe, and pulled out the most hideous tweed jacket imaginable.

"Doesn't it look great?" he inquired.

"I think it looks downright ugly," Minho answered. "I mean, who in their right mind would wear that?"

"Minho!" Lennon interjected. "Don't be so rude! You can say the truth in a kind way. Like this, for example: Thomas, I don't think that jacket looks great. See, Minho? I was being very polite."

"Do you guys really hate it?" Thomas asked. "I was happy when I got it, because I was thinking about dressing up as the Doctor at the special 'Doctor Who' showing next week."

"Well, if you're wearing it for that, I guess it'll do." Minho nodded his head. "I mean, now that I think about it, since I wanna dress up as a Dalek for the showing, I'm gonna have to carry around with me a toilet plunger and an egg beater or whisk or something. Seriously, that sexy Dalek dress by itself won't do any justice."

"Wait, there's a 'Doctor Who' showing next week?" Lennon's eyes went wide open. "How come no one told me about this?"

"Harry McGilmore himself is gonna be there," Thomas said. "He's coming dressed in character."

"Who's he?"

"I dunno. Someone told me his character died before the theme song even came on. It was that episode with those aliens who ate you with their eyes."

"Whoever it is," Minho commented, "I bet he's gonna do a great job! 'Doctor Who' never fails to do a great job!"

"Yes it does," Lennon said. "Remember that season when Moffat was allowed to write _all _the episodes? And remember when they let Rose stay on the show for _way _too long, even though she practically was a whiner? And remember that bad actress they got to play Martha, who was totally unconvincing? And remember-"

"Whatever," Minho said. "I still think it's great, even when it isn't. I guess that's the charm of it."

Outside the window, someone was in a tree, gazing in at the three boys. It was Machiavelli von Tarantelli, the evillest, wickedest, nefariousest prankster of all time.

"And now," he said to himself, "I shall do something that will humiliate those three buffoons!"

But just as he was about to pull out his wiffle bat to break through the window, and just as he was about to pull out his wedgie machine which he was going to use after his broke through the window, he felt both the wiffle bat and the wedgie machine get knocked out of his hands. They fell to the ground, and broke, because they were made out of cheap plastic from a candy shop.

"Who dares to interrupt my plans!" Machiavelli inquired crossly.

"I dare!" a voice up higher in the tree said.

"What?!" Machiavelli was perplexed. "You, Brenda?"

Brenda replied, "Of course! I wouldn't let you do something so horrible to my friends."

And with that, Brenda disappeared into the night.

Meanwhile, the boys were still in the bedroom, chatting away.

"So, Brenda and I might be going to that vegan restaurant soon," Lennon said. "She wants to get it over with, since she can't stand the suspense of not knowing whether or not the food is good."

"I hate restaurants," Thomas said. "Well, not really. I just hate how, whenever my family goes to a restaurant, Jenny always has to get a dessert with tons of chocolate in it. It's just not fair! Anyways, I think I know what restaurant you're talking about. Jenny ordered a chocolate fudge pie… Not just a piece of chocolate fudge pie, but the whole thing!"

Minho complained, "You're such a whiner! One mention of eating, and you go on a rant about how much you wish you could eat chocolate!"

"Oh, no!" Thomas suddenly looked horrified. "There's a potluck after church tomorrow! Mrs. Fou always brings a German chocolate cake!"

Needless to say, it took Lennon and Minho a long time to console Thomas.

**So... I wasn't quite sure how to end this chapter, so I decided to do a total "Keeping Up Appearances" conclusion and end it at a random spot. Please review, follow, and favorite this story, and be sure to leave suggestions! :) Also, a special congratulations (and thanks) to theevilsquiddancer for being my first reviewer and follower for this story! And thanks to junepepper&amp;Niji and Sassy Minho for following! I don't think I'll do this thanking stuff for every chapter, but it's good to get it out anytime. :) **


	4. Chapter 4: I should name the chapters

**So... First of all, sorry this is in so late. I started it some months or so ago. Second of all, to those of you who were reading my recently finished story, I realized I said I was going on "sabbatical" (I put that word in quotation marks because this isn't a job, so I can't go on a break technically in those specific terms) due to the immersion program I'm apart of. But, last Friday/Saturday, until four in the morning, I finally watched "The Maze Runner" movie for the very first time, and I've been secretly fanboying about it in my head and by reading stories from this website. Long story short, I *needed* to get this chapter up! **

**Of course, upon looking over this a second time, I didn't realize how much political, social, and religious commentary was in here. So, for those who might get offended, sorry. That's one reason I was kind of not so keen on putting this chapter up till giving it a look-over, due to some touchy issues.**

**ALSO, TRIGGER WARNINGS: There are mentions of depression, as well as homophobia and misogyny. **

Saints Damian and Cosmas's Church in Grenouille was a nice little house of worship, not at all like Grenouille's Universal Church of Free Use of Recreational Drugs. The church was, quite obviously, named after the saints Damian and Cosmas. It stood on top of a hilltop right outside of Grenouille. Just the same, it had the characteristic, gaudy coloring of most of the other Grenouillan buildings. (Though, the paint of the Universal Church of Free Use of Recreational Drugs was _way _in need of re-application; the colors had gone from gaudy to gray overnight, after a bonfire of pot had been lit in the building's interior.)

Anyway, that very Sunday, when there was gonna be a potluck with German chocolate cake, Father McCreary delivered a very fiery sermon about how people caught watching movies which portrayed bare-armed characters should go down to the pit of Hell and burn for all eternity. (I said the place itself was nice, not the person in charge of the place). Normally, Mass is supposed to be about an hour long. But, with Father McCreary coming up with his very own sermons to preach (keyword being sermons, not homilies), Mass often extended to much longer increments of time.

This Sunday, Minho caught himself falling asleep. The tithingman took out his poking stick, and poked Minho with the end that had a bobby pin jutting out. Waking up, Minho jumped up in shock!

"Watch where you point that thing, you freak!" he hollered at the tithingman.

"Minho!" Father McCreary raised his voice. "Meet me in confession after Mass concludes, young man! I will not have libertine wretches like yourself talking such cruelty in my church!"

As the sermon resumed, Minho whispered to Lennon, "We used to have a really nice priest, Father O'Herzscherbert. But then someone figured out that 'he' was actually a _she_ who had crossdressed so that she could fulfill her dream of leading a church. I mean, her ordination had been refused because she's a woman, even though she was the seminary's brightest and best. Since the bishop was oh, so shocked, Father O'Herzscherbert got excommunicated. She was told that in about a year from now, she'd be allowed to return to the church and start taking the Eucharist again."

Meanwhile, back in Montreal (the only city I can think of to write about at the moment), Newt and his mother were at the mosque. Not that they were attending service there. I mean, why would they? It wasn't Friday! But Newt's mother, Mrs. Dorothy Ann Palfreyman al Jinnah, was busy transcribing an ingregoratory paper for her husband, the mosque's imam, to read to his congregation, since it a red letter day was coming up soon.

"How come you have to write Ali Daoud's speech?" Newt asked, groaning. He wasn't very fond of his stepfather, who he thought was an overbearing jerk who couldn't write his own speeches. Seriously, that guy couldn't even toast his own bread.

Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah looked up from her transcription.

"When are you going to call him 'Dad'?" she inquired.

"Not anytime soon," Newt replied. "In fact, I might never."

"You know, he actually cares about you."

"No, he doesn't. He just cares about your money. That's the only reason he married you."

"Isaac Palfreyman al Jinnah! How dare you slander your stepfather?!"

"And that's another thing!" Newt could hardly handle his frustration. "I'm not 'Isaac Palfreyman al Jinnah'! I've always been Isaac Palfreyman-Newton!"

"You know I hate the sound of your… biological father's name." Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah looked hurt. "He was a horrible man."

"I know, I know- you've said that many times before, even though I never knew him- but as long as Ali Daoud treats me like a second-class family member, I'm not going to identify with his last name. I want the same last name as both sets of my grandparents."

Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah had to admit that she really liked old Mr. and Mrs. Newton, even if prejudice kept her from spending time with them. If only they hadn't had such a jerkbag jerkity schmendrick evil poophead for a son. Upon marrying him, she had no idea he was on _that _side of the Conflict! Why did she ever marry that cruel-hearted loser, who couldn't even lift a candle to her in her grandeur? At least she had her dear son Newt, the only good thing that came from that horrible marriage. Of course, she had to reconcile that half of her son's blood came from _them_.

Anyway, back at Saints Damian and Cosmas's Church, Father McCreary was condemning feminism.

"It is the one true enemy against the institution of the family and the Sacrament of Marriage!" he hollered. "It persecutes men, and uproots all that our society stands for! What's next after equal rights for women? Gay people and animals will start receiving civil rights!"

Lennon looked behind him to where Brenda was sitting. She looked extremely uncomfortable.

She whispered, "I think I'm going to start going to a different church. I heard that there's an amazing one just over in Les Lunettes, a really uplifting charismatic Catholic congregation. Still, I heard there's also an absolutely amazingly wonderful Pentecostal church in Les Lunettes, and I'll definitely have to see if that one's the right one for me."

Turning around, Minho asked, "Are you even Catholic, Brenda?"

"No," Brenda replied. "I was raised as a First United Methodist, but my mother started taking me to a charismatic nondenominational church when I was in middle school. I really liked it there."

"Newt says he was christened as an Anglican as a baby." Minho scratched his scalp. "But his family never was devout, and didn't really care twopence about religion. That is, until his mother converted to Islam when Newt was, like, five years old. After that, he was raised as a Muslim. I know he practices faith, but I'm not sure if he really likes it. Maybe he does. His mom's now married to an imam, though, so she'd probably make his life miserable if he converted to something else."

Thomas, who was sitting nearby, whispered, "I actually think Newt's stepdad is in cahoots with the Cure-finding experiments. Last night, since I _really _was hating having the Flare, I did a study-up on WICKED- that's the organization Dr. Janson and Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang run. Well, they don't run it, they simply started it and are under the leadership of someone by the last name Paige. Anyways, Imam Palfreyman al Jinnah apparently is a technician who's inventing something called 'Grievers'. He has a Ph.D from BYU, and is a Comic Sans advocacy activist."

"I thought he was an imam," Brenda said. "What's he doing inventing things? Doesn't he have a mosque to run?"

"Mostly all what an imam does in the mosque is lead the prayers on Fridays," Minho explained. "That's why they have day-jobs. It's not like they're full-time clergymen."

Lennon said, "I really wish my mother had told me more about the work she does. She said I could be involved in it once she fixed some of the trouble spots."

Just then, Father McCreary got to yet another controversial part of his sermon. He kept giving people death glares.

Lennon said to Brenda, "When you go look for another church, take me with you."

"And take me, too," Minho said.

"You've really warmed up to me, Minho," Brenda said, smiling mischievously. "But, yes, I would be happy to have you two come with me."

Meanwhile, back at the mosque, Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah was explaining to Newt the importance of him getting married within a few years after high school.

"You'll be going to college soon," she said, "and you'll see plenty of pretty ladies there, and you must decide which one would be suitable for you to marry."

"But what if I don't want to get married?" Newt asked.

"Ali Daoud says you have to get married, or else he'll disown you."

"Not that I wouldn't care."

"He wants you to give him grandkids, since his biological son is sterile."

"Mom, you seriously think Amir Jafar is sterile? That's just something Ali Daoud uses as cover up because he's embarrassed to have a gay son."

Just then, Amir Jafar walked into the office where Newt and Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah were.

"Did I just hear someone talking about me?" he asked, smiling. "Hey, Mom, Dad wants you to remember to print out the speech in Comic Sans. He can't read Times New Roman."

"See, Newt?" Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah said. "Amir Jafar calls me 'Mom', so why can't you call Ali Daoud 'Dad'?"

"I'm still shocked that Ali Daoud only reads stuff that's in Comic Sans." Newt rubbed his temples as if in agony. "The first time I met him, he talked about how he was printing out labels for his inventions in Comic Sans, and how he was designing Comic Sans versions of Arabic and Chinese script, and how Comic Sans 'saved his life', and-"

Amir Jafar blurted out, "And remember how he had Mom write a letter to the IRS company asking for them to send the tax form to him in Comic Sans?!"

Newt and Amir Jafar burst out laughing.

"How dare you two mock your father?" Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah said with pure shock. "After all that he's provided for you, how dare you not show him honor? Shame on you two!"

She sighed.

"Anyway, back to our subject of before," Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah said, "Amir Jafar, I was just speaking to Newt about the young ladies he would meet in college. You've been going to college- aren't there tons of beautiful young ladies who will catch Newt's eye and get him in the mood to marry?"

Amir Jafar seemed to think a bit.

"I didn't really notice any," he said.

Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah sighed again.

"Newt," she said, "someday, you'll find a girl who is perfect for you, and you'll really want to copulate with her. Once that happens, you'll have to get married, or else you might start living in sin. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Of course not," Newt replied. "But I've never found a girl 'perfect' enough to 'copulate with'. Also, I've never really gave marriage a thought. And even if I did want to marry, copulatability wouldn't determine such a lifelong decision."

"Are you saying my logic is flawed?"

"No, but… Yeah, I guess…"

"Newt, I'm your mother. I know what's best for you."

_No, you don't_, Newt thought. _Since when did you even really care for me? When you explained to the abortion doctor you couldn't have twins, you said, 'Let me keep the girl.' It's a miracle you didn't set me up for adoption after the mistake. _

"You know, Newt, your attitude has been really bad lately. I'm surprised I haven't raised my voice at you about it any sooner. You need to straighten up your act, or else it'll just get crookeder and crookeder."

"Yes, Mom. I'll do that."

Meanwhile, back in Grenouille's Saints Damian and Cosmas' Church, Father McCreary looked ashamed. The pope had entered the sanctuary just then, and was gazing sternly at the not-so-nice reverend.

"My child," the pope said, "I'm afraid you are not fit for the position of priesthood. You are being relieved of you duties."

"But Your Holiness!" Father McCreary exclaimed. "I've tried so hard to do a good job at my job! Please don't fire me!"

"I'm so terribly sorry," the pope replied. "I have appointed Father O'Herzscherbert to replace you and take the position of leadership over this church parish. She has been relieved of her excommunication, which was wrong of us all to inflict upon her. She is a much better candidate for the position than you are."

Father O'Herzscherbert stood up at the podium, and she said, "First of all, I would like to thank His Holiness for allowing the ordination of women, as well as lifting my position as excommunicant. And, second of all, instead of calling me 'Father' I would like you all to call me 'Mother'. It doesn't do for a woman to have to hide her gender in a world that claims to value equality. And, third of all, my real surname is Paige. I no longer have to hide my identity. I am Mother Paige."

Everyone in the congregation cheered! They were all so happy to have their favorite cleric back!

"Bless you, my child!" the pope said merrily. "And now, I heard there was going to be a potluck. The service should have been long over by now, and the food should have started cooking. Of course, I heard there would be several different types of chocolate cakes."

"Let's enjoy the grub, then!" Mother Paige said.

Everyone in the congregation cheered even louder!

"And for all of you who can't have the cakes because you're allergic to chocolate," Mother Paige said, "don't worry! I am leading an organization called WICKED that is working to find a Cure for this horrible malady!"

"Why is everybody suddenly working to Cure chocolate allergies?" Brenda asked.

"I don't know," Lennon replied. "Maybe it's a fad, like the Water Bucket Challenge."

Thomas said, "I respect Mother Paige so much. Her work will make chocolate available to all peoples!"

"You don't respect her for her feminist message and milestones?" Brenda asked. "Why can't you be like Newt and have your priorities straight!"

Meanwhile, back at the mosque, Newt was complaining to Amir Jafar while they walked through the halls.

"And the worst thing," he said, "is when she talks about 'Oh, how wonderful Ali Daoud is!' and 'You should think Ali Daoud is better than sliced bread, Newt!' How on earth can I think Ali Daoud is better than sliced bread?! He's horrible! He's terribly awful!"

"He may be in competition with sliced bread," Amir Jafar said, "but there's no way he can beat a falafel pita wrap. I mean, seriously, falafel pita wrap totally blows my dad out of the water!"

Newt was silent.

He then asked, "So, how's it going with Benyamin?"

"Oh, it's going fine," Amir Jafar said. "I actually went to one of his meetings with him and met his friends."

"The Israeli Student Association?"

"Yeah. They're nice people. Benyamin's a nice person. And no one was disturbed in the least that an Israeli guy was going out with a Palestinian-Quebecois guy. I actually got to talk about my early childhood in Gaza, and they told me about Tel Aviv and Haifa and West Jerusalem, and other places. I'd actually like to visit Israel. Have you seen pictures of it? It's so beautiful over there."

"Ali Daoud wouldn't appreciate you talking like this."

"Dad doesn't understand that people are people. It's sad, I know. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but I'll love him whether or not he will accept me and my choices."

Newt shook his head.

"If only I could be a real person," he said. "Instead of some sort of weird yes man who lets others walk over him."

"You're a real person, Newt, and a nice one at that. You like making people happy, and, yes, you sometimes go overboard, but remember that you're perfect just the way you are. Don't let your flaws or what other people say are you flaws to get in the way."

The two of them were quiet all throughout the car ride home. They passed by Saints Damian and Cosmas' Church and saw people gathering into the adjacent building.

"I forgot!" Newt said. "Thomas told me there was a potluck today! Mom, can I go?"

"Ooh!" Amir Jafar said. "Free food sounds lovely! Mom, Dad, can I go also?"

Scowling, Ali Daoud looked back and said, "No! The food's not going to be halal!"

Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah said, "Honey, you should let them go to the potluck. They know what they can and cannot eat, and it's not like anything on this continent is halal anyways."

"I hate being a minority," Ali Daoud growled. "Okay, boys, you can go. But don't eat anything with pork in it! And don't drink anything that could be intoxicating! And, for goodness' sake, it looks like that woman preacher is back! Don't talk to her!"

Mrs. Palfreyman al Jinnah stopped the car, and Newt and Amir Jafar climbed out, waved goodbye, and walked towards the church. They went into the adjacent building which served as a mess hall.

"Look!" Alby shouted. "It's Newt!"

All of Newt's friends waved at him.

"And look," Teresa whispered to Jenny. "He's brought along his college-age stepbrother."

Jenny replied, whisperedly, "Too bad he wouldn't be interested in my womanly wiles, or else I'd be married by the time the bells ring twelve tonight!"

"How are you doing, Newt?" Thomas asked. "Sit next to me!"

Newt sat down next to his good friend. Amir Jafar sat in the space right between Brenda and Lennon.

"Hello and hiya!" he said. "I don't think I recognize either of you. I'm Amir Jafar Palfreyman al Jinnah, Newt's stepbrother. You might have heard of me."

"Newt's definitely mentioned you," Brenda said. "He said you play the saxophone."

Blushing, Amir Jafar added, "And the zither and the erhu."

Lennon commented, "Newt once said you're better than a falafel pita wrap."

Blushing even more, Amir Jafar said, "I need to tell him to stop embarrassing me like this! He really ought to say a few mean things, and stop showering this compliments!"

"He really likes you," Brenda said. "He calls you his brother, not his stepbrother, and once he-"

"Why's someone taken my spot?!" Minho hollered, walking up to the table. "Oh, Amir! It's you!"

"I'm sorry," Amir Jafar said. "Should I try to find another place to sit?"

"Nah, that's fine," Minho replied. "It's my fault for having to go to the bathroom. In my defense, the sermon was extra long today."

Looking around, though, Minho saw that there were no more seats available nearby. So, he sat down on Amir Jafar's lap. Why not? Everyone in Newt's circle of friends was close to Amir. They'd all missed him terribly when he'd gone off to college last term.

"Attention, please!" Mother Paige said over the sound of everyone talking. "We will now determine who can go get food first! Judging by Father McCreary's notes, at the last potluck the table with the youngest children got to go first. So, this time, the table with the oldest senior citizens get to go first."

The next table that got to go was the one that had the guy with the wildest, biggest beard. The next table to go after _that _was the table that had the most people in bow ties. And so on and so forth.

Finally, the table which had our beloved main characters and main side characters got to go and get their food.

The table that went next for food had some fellow from Minho's biology class named Winston DeLaNezz sitting at it. He stood right behind Lennon in line at the food table.

"Hey," he said, "try some of the ham. It came straight from my dad's butcher shop today."

"No thank you," Lennon replied.

"But it's really good." Winston licked his lips in a disturbing manner. "Come on, try it!"

Brenda looked behind her and glared at Winston.

"He's a vegetarian," she said. "Stop pestering him."

Winston's eyes opened wide in shock.

"You're a vegetarian?!" he inquired. "How do you handle it? I mean, how can you find foods at the store without meat in them? Do you have your own garden, or something?"

Lennon just sighed. It became apparent to him that cruelty-free eating was a very intense, personal subject for Brenda, and she looked about ready to rant. Lennon counted the seconds as he saw Brenda's face slowly calm down.

By then, they were no longer at the food table.

"Is it true that vegetarians eat a ton of tofu?" Winston asked.

"Not necessarily," Brenda replied. "Some-"

"I love tofu!" Lennon shrieked with delight. "Especially when it's fried with coconut oil!"

"As I was saying," Brenda continued, "some like tempeh, or seitan, or simply tons of proteiny beans. Also, Lennon, what you just talked about sounds like an allergic reaction ready to happen."

"Seitan is my fav," Lennon muttered to himself, not quite listening to Brenda.

"Of course," Brenda said, "most fake meats have soy in them, making them some weird type of tofu, I guess. Genetically modified soy has become as common as genetically modified corn. I should know. My dad is an expert at genetic modification."

While Brenda was discussing people with soy allergies, Thomas was lamenting his chocolate allergies.

"I wanted that cake," he muttered glumly. "But too bad it has chocolate in it."

"Mrs. D'Aurevoir made a carob cake," Teresa told him. "You haven't tried a bite of it. Come on! You can't have self-pity like this the rest of your life!"

Thomas picked up the whole piece of carob cake off his plate and nibbled at the end.

"It's not the same…" he mutteredly almost whispered.

"Well," Alby said, "if you aren't gonna eat it, I will."

He grabbed the cake off of Thomas's fork, and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Tastes like plastic," he said. "Yummy."

Minho gazed off into the distance.

"It looks like Lenny and Brenda are talking to Winston," he said. "I feel sorry for all three of them. Oh, well. At least I'm not listening to their conversation. I have no need to hear about animal rights and welfare and all that such." He gnawed savagely on the end of a chicken leg bone.

Alby said, "Have you tried this carob cake, Minho? It's delicious!"

"Nah," Minho replied. "My plate was too stuffed high with the different chocolate cakes. Of course, as always, the German chocolate cake is the best."

Thomas broke down and started crying.

Brenda and Lennon were still walking towards their table, talking to Winston.

"So no milk?" Winston asked Brenda. "How do you not get osteoperosis?"

"I get my calcium from plants," Brenda replied. "Also, it's not like dairy really helps. My grandpa would have been the Dairy Queen if he were, well, a woman. Anyways, with all his milk-guzzling habits, he still got more bone breaks than my grandma, and she wasn't the most careful of individuals. During one community gathering, she decided it would be fun to climb the flagpole right outside of the tribal elders' building."

Winston was quiet for a moment.

He then randomly said, "You two belong in the same set. You both worked well at explaining to me animal issues, and overhearing you during Mass, you're conversationally compatible. Anyways, I gotta get to my fam. See ya later! I got some dead pig to eat!"

Once Winston was back at his table, Lennon looked at Brenda and said, "He's surprisingly tolerant. I thought he'd think we were thinking of accusing his father of pure evil."

"The butchering business _is _evil," Brenda replied, "whether the people apart of it are or not. All Winston wanted was answers, and that's what we gave him." Smiling slightly, she said, "Thanks for helping me keep my temper."

"No problem." Lennon smiled at her.

They got to talk more about animal rights issues, as well as several other social issues, a few days later when they went to that Montrealan vegan restaurant Brenda'd been wanting to go to for ages. After discussing the deep subjects, such as how to cure the economy and in the meantime rescue the oppressed, the two younguns got to discussing more personal things.

"So, what you're saying is," Brenda said, "that you didn't learn till a couple years ago that Jack's your actual dad?"

"That's what I'm saying," Lennon replied. "Fannie's my mom, of course. There's no denying _that_."

"Of course not. Your chutzpah is too perfect for you to be a goy- you have to be her child!"

The two of them laughed.

"So," Lennon said, "your parents are divorced? How long that's been?"

"Since before I was born," Brenda replied. "It didn't work out for them, and they divorced before they even knew my mother was pregnant. Of course, he didn't pay child support or alimony or anything for years. He was always too obsessed with his work to care even a bit about me. Still, I'm very happy that my mother got to be the one to raise me. She's not like other mothers- she's very supportive, and caring."

"Is that supposed to be rare in mothers?"

"It was rare in my neighborhood. My friends always had nagging mothers. Was yours supportive or caring?"

"It took me a while to realize it, but, in the end, I figured out that she was always there for me. She would often make sure Harry didn't go too hard on me. It didn't work, but it sure worked better than if she'd just stood on the sidelines. You know what I mean?"

Brenda ate a couple of the noodles from her shiitake-udon soup, then pulled out of her jacket pocket her wallet.

"I oughtta show you my photos," she said, opening the wallet. "This is my mom, a few years ago. She's standing next to Grandma. I remember the day this picture was taken- Grandma broke her arm that day while scootering down a hill. Oh! And this is a picture of my baby brother Tyler! He's got no tonsils, because he got tonsillitis a week after he was born. And here's a picture of my uncle Jorge. He's not my uncle through blood- he's just a good friend of my mom. We used to visit him every time we left to go into town on some errand or excursion, which was frequently."

Pulling out his wallet, Lennon showed Brenda the two pictures he had.

"Why do you have only two photographs?" Brenda inquired.

Lennon shrugged.

"My family never really was much into taking pictures," he replied. "I guess that's why I like drawing sometimes, because I want to put something in a frame."

"Hmm…" Brenda thought pensively. "So, what're you showing me?"

"Here's a picture of Minho and me," Lennon replied. "This was when we were in the third grade and he came to Illinois. We're out in the backyard, right after it stopped snowing."

Laughing, Brenda said, "He was so adorable back then!"

"And this is a picture of Matthew," Lennon said.

"He was blessed with some amazing hair."

"At the commune he came from, he would frequently get scolded for the length of his hair. He also got called a sass-mouth, which is a sassy thing to say when you're scolding someone for their… sassiness. Actually, he really isn't a very sassy person, just honest."

Lennon was quiet for a moment.

"I'd better call him tonight," he said. "I haven't called him a few days, and I wanna see how he's doing. I also wanna make sure he's taking his depression meds. I mean, those things don't work very well, but at least it's better than nothing. He actually normally doesn't need them when I'm around, or when he's _not _at the commune."

"You must trust him a lot to leave him on his own, then," Brenda said.

"Oh, I just told Peter to amuse him and not end up getting the two of them in jail," Lennon replied. "He'll sure give Matthew the time of his life. Matthew really needs it, because he has no life."

"You're such a caring friend." Brenda smiled. "I would never have guessed that about you upon first meeting you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lennon looked confused.

Brenda simply smiled, as if she didn't know how to reply.

"What's with that smile? You're kind of scaring me, Brenda. How would never have guessed I'm a caring friend? Is it my constant scowl?"

"Scowl? What scowl? You never seem to scowl."

"That's the point. What if one day people say I have a scowl. My friend Tobias always scowled. He was kind of a scowler type of person. It didn't help that he had such a prominent brow ridge. He often reminded me of some hunter from _The Clan of the Cave Bear_."

Brenda laughed.

"It's just…" She thought for a moment what to say. "You're not like other guys, Lennon."

"Oh." Lennon was quiet for a moment. "You mean to say, I… act really gay, and it makes everyone uncomfortable?"

Brenda laughed again, but this time more gently.

She said, "You're simply just too kind, and too intelligent, and too pleasant. All these months I've been here, I've felt absolutely awful, like I'm all alone. You understand that, right?"

"Yes," Lennon answered. "I've always felt a bit like a newbie everywhere. It's a good thing I started making friends recently, though, coming here, I find I have to make even more new friends, and I feel kind of shut out because all of Minho's friends are already so close to each other. Sometimes I wish I could be back in Chicago."

"That's exactly how I feel." Brenda smiled. "And, you know what, Lennon? You're helping to take away that feeling from me. Whenever I'm with you, I don't feel left out, and I feel relaxed. You also always have something interesting to say."

Lennon didn't know how to reply. He'd only rarely been complimented like this before. Actually, he couldn't remember a single time when he'd been complimented like this before. Also, there was something about Brenda that caught his attention, and made his chest feel warm. Little did he realize that, as the days would go be, he would more and more see just how extra special she was becoming to him.

Meanwhile, Minho was in the parlor of his house when there was an ominous knock at the door. Answering, he saw Teresa, dressed in her foam pool noodle armor, over her clothes from church that morning, and brandishing a foam noodle as a weapon.

"Okay, Minho," she said, "we're having a showdown!"

Next day, the whole town was gathered in the plaza to see who would win THE BIGGEST SHOWDOWN OF ALL TIME!

(Ooh! The suspense!)

**So, for several reasons, "The Maze Runner" movie was so much awesomer than people made it out to be! I read a lot of articles saying, "I didn't like the movie because..." and "The movie could have done such-and-such instead of that-and-that..." I liked how all the characters seemed like genuinely nice people (except Gally, of course- it pains me to think that Eustace Clarence Scrubb never learned his lesson). Despite the "grown-ups pretending to be teenagers" thing, I kind of think all the actors for the characters were perfectly chosen. **

**But, enough of my daily dirt! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Be sure to review and give me suggestions (or your favorite character dies!), though I have a vague idea on which direction I want the story to go! Thanks to theevilsquiddancer for her totally awesome reviews! And thanks to the people who've liked and favorited it so far! **

**(Phew! He's gone! My roommate just walked in, and didn't see I was on this website! He knows I read and write fanfic, but, currently, I don't want him catching me in the act of participating in this sort of monkey business!)**


	5. Chapter 5: The Showdown, and the Trials

**So, today was the very last day of the Chinese language immersion program! So, I might have more time to write fanfic! Or I might not. Who knows? Please enjoy this chapter! It's kind of long, though I've noticed that my most recent chapters have been containing more and more material, and all that such, and whatever and... Why don't you just read the chapter? Don't mind the rambling author's note! **

The town plaza was packed with happy spectators that day! Yesterday, at church, it'd been exciting enough to have Mother Paige come back and make everyone happy, as well as having the pope stop by, but today was also quite spectacular, because this was going to be THE BIGGEST SHOWDOWN EVER!

Anyways, now that I've regained my composure, I shall continue telling this very realistic story.

Chairs and bleachers had been set up all around the plaza and in the streets, and tickets were even being sold. The Kangs got in for free, and sat in the place of honor, since they were related to one of the showdown participants. Teresa's relatives, the Bauchemellelforiénne-Châlafencrafé family (an old Quebecois family, known for their political influence and criminal activity, as well as their ice cream vending station), were seated dangerously near the Kangs.

"I hope Minho wins!" Auntie Gyeong said. "I would hate to see him get hurt at all!"

"Auntie Gyeong!" Lennon said, horrified. "This isn't actual violence! They're just going to be hitting each other with foam noodles until… until… I don't know. Until the either side relents, I guess. It's not like anyone will get hurt at all!"

"But this is Teresa whom Minho is going up against," Uncle Myeong said. "Don't ever underestimate the danger of Teresa!"

"Hi!" Thomas said happily, sitting down on a seat next to Lennon. "I hope both Teresa _and _Minho win, because they're my best friends!"

"No one cares what you think, Thomas!" Halmeoni said, walking up. "I mean, not today. You're normally a bright kid, but today we… Anyways, could you please get out of my seat?"

"This is your seat?" Thomas asked, wide-eyed and blushing with embarrassment and shock. "Sorry, ma'am." He stood up quickly.

"Halmeoni," Lennon said, "I thought you were going to use the restroom just a minute ago!"

"Nah!" Halmeoni said. "Those Honey-Buckets are all out of toilet paper. I can hold it in till we get home."

"The showdown doesn't start till another twenty minutes," Auntie Gyeong said. "It'll take you less than one to walk home."

"I don't care," Halmeoni said. "I can just people watch. I like people watching. Watching folks do dumb stuff is fun."

Lennon decided he himself should do some people watching. What he noticed, though, was that one particular person, Brenda, who was several yards away, didn't look so happy. Winston was with her, giving her the eye, and it was obvious that she was trying to get away but simply couldn't back out.

Lennon stood up, and walked over to them.

"Brenda!" he said. "Wanna sit with me?"

A confused look came on Winston's face. He stopped what he was doing, which was giving Brenda a few suggestive pick-up lines, and had to set his mind to work. A feeling of shock came over him.

"Of course!" Brenda said, looking relieved.

"Sorry, Lennon!" Winston said. "I didn't realize she was... with you. I mean, I…"

For a brief second, he started to back up, feeling a little nervous. Quickly, though, he simply turned around and walked away.

"He should have apologized to me," Brenda muttered.

Lennon started to walk away. She followed him.

"Thanks," she said. "He just… wasn't leaving me alone, and he was being kind of gross..."

"I know," Lennon said.

They got back to where the Kangs were sitting. Thomas was still there, chatting with Halmeoni. Once Lennon and Brenda walked up, though, he turned his attention to them.

"How'd you do that?" Thomas asked. "Nobody's ever been able to get Winston to back off when he sees a girl he likes."

"Jack once told me that misogynists are like all other types of dishonest people," Lennon said. "Once you know what their mindset is like, you realize your own ironic power to do good."

It was about then that the showdown was about to start. Teresa and Minho both stepped out of the city hall, Teresa in her traditional foam pool noodle armor and with her classic pool noodle weaponry, Minho also holding a pool noodle weapon, but wearing armor made out of pillows.

They stood off, and faced each other fiercely.

"Get out your dagger!" Teresa's mother hollered.

"Gouge out his eyes with your sword!" Teresa's father shouted.

"Blast off his ears with your old-fashioned revolver!" Teresa's grandfather, earless old Jed, voiced out.

Teresa groaned. Her family could be so heartlessly vicious at times! She remembered the time her parents and Jed were performing a human sacrifice out in a field under a blue moon, and they forgot to completely kill the person before feeding all the organs to vultures and buzzards and ostriches.

"Do you think she'll actually hurt Minho?" Brenda asked.

"I hope not," Lennon said. "I thought this was just going to be a safe and somewhat fun way for both of them to vent out their anger and hatred of each other, but, apparently, Teresa is known for her shadiness during affairs such as these. The only reason I'm still watching is because this is my cousin whose… life… is on the line."

"Teresa would never hurt a fly!" Thomas said.

"She beat you across the skull back in the eighth grade," Brenda said.

"And, so I've heard, she kicked you between the legs every fifth day of the month back in the third grade to see if you'd notice a pattern," Lennon added.

"Did Alby once say that she also would play 'dentist' with you back in kindergarten, and that's how you lost your first tooth?" Brenda scratched the top of her head.

"Okay, okay…" Thomas said. "I admit, she's a little bit feisty, but, deep down inside her heart, she's kindhearted person."

Teresa glared and scowled and glowered at Minho. She was gonna beat him up, and no one was gonna stop her! Still, she knew enough about injuring and killing and maiming, that she had no need for weapons to accomplish what she desired.

Of course, her therapist the other day had to beg her to stick to the pool noodles theme. Teresa was, several times, tempted to hide a razor, dagger, and pistol in her left boot, and a copy of _Twilight _in her right boot. But she knew, for once in her life, that she had to make the right choice.

When she'd been a young child back on the North Greggton C Reserve in Yukon, she'd always get picked on by the other kids, who thought she looked like a total wimp. Her sickly health made her rather skinny, and it made her face quite pale, a lot like her childhood hero Edward Cullen. To make matters worse, her eyes were generally bloodshot, making her irises a peculiar color. Jed Bauchemellelforiénne-Châlafencrafé found her one day as she was fending off a whole mob of bullyish, dangerous classmates on the playground.

After all the classmates had been bloodied and knocked out, lying all over the playground ground, Jed asked her, "Little girl, what is your name?"

"Teresa Agnes Kashawoot," she replied.

"What grade are you in?"

"I'm in preschool. I started a week ago."

So Jed and his favorite son and his favorite son's wife adopted Teresa. She became fast friends with Thomas, the neighboring boy, whom she would have fun with everyday and would sometimes torture for fun. Her grandpa Jed, everyday, told her, "Be a sadist, or else your life is a waste." Every day, Jed would have her go through the religious rituals he made up in his migraine-ridden head, and she learned to like the taste of raw blood. From a young age, she was set up to be vicious.

Now, she, Teresa the Destroyer, was face-to-face with her worst enemy ever, Minho Kang (christened Michael), the most annoyingest and sassiest (not to mention most confidentest and sometimes cockiest) guy she'd ever had the audacity to know! It took all the self-control she could manage and muster to not to stab him in the stomach and pull out his guts right on the spot. Not that she wanted to do that. As she confided in Jenny one day, Minho had the "cutest tummy ever, even cuter than Thomas's".

She whacked Minho viciously several times with the foam pool noodle. Then, she just couldn't resist it- she got out her jousting lance and started beating him across the cranium.

_Wow, _she thought. _His skull is even harder than Thomas's!_

The showdown lasted about a whole hour. By then, the spectators had bought a whole year's supply of popcorn and cotton candy floss from the vendors, and the police had been so distracted by the showdown that Swiper the Fox and Carmen Sandiego got away with stealing a ton of pricelessly valuable items. In the end, both Minho and Teresa fell on the ground, panting, exhausted from using the amount of energy it takes to babysit a thousand kids.

Meanwhile, the evil Dr. Archibald Janson had been watching this.

"Gally," he said to his young assistant, "take note of this. I want them in the Trials."

"Yes, monsieur," Gally said.

"Gally, I'm a native English speaker. You don't have to 'monsieur' me."

"No you aren't a native English speaker! Didn't you illegally immigrate from Argentina? Your father was a Nazi who escaped Germany and ended up with Argentinian citizenship, right? I mean, unless Argentina is now called Easter Island, Extended, since Easter Island recently took over the central government in Chile and now has a plan to capture the rest of South America. I mean, on the news the other day..."

"Yes, Gally, my father was a neo-Nazi, but that doesn't mean it has any effect on me as a person. My word, every time you monologue you go completely off-subject!"

Dr. Janson, Professor Schliwinsky-Kang, Imam Palfreyman al Jinnah, Mother Paige, and several others had been working on the Trials and the Cure for years. It'd gotten to the point where they were wondering what they would do with their lives once this was all over. But, now, the Trials were about to commence!

Speaking of the Trials, late that night, Dr. Janson was in his house's office room typing on his typewriter and using his old-fashioned non-electronic calculator, as well as his semi-authentic Tang dynasty abacus, when a knock came at his door.

"Come in!" he said.

In walked Brenda.

"You wanted to see me?" she inquired.

"Yes, yes," he replied. "Please, sit down."

Brenda sat on top of her father's desk, and peered down at him.

"What is it?" she asked. "Does it have to do with the uprising Quebec is having against the rest of Canada? No, Dad, I refuse to take up arms and participate in this revolution."

"You're such a downer! No, it's not about that. It's about the Trials. I want you to participate in them. You'd be perfect!"

"I don't want to participate in a useless experiment! So what if some people are allergic to chocolate? I'd rather think about those who don't have enough food on their plates as is, leastwise chocolate."

"Now, now, young lady! Don't make sensical arguments when trying to make me look wrong! Now, would you please encourage some of your dear little friends to participate in these Trials? I'm certain that Thomas kid will be more than willing to join in on the fun, especially since he cries at the very word 'chocolate'."

"Dad, this is ridiculous! Are you yourself allergic to chocolate? That would explain everything!"

Dr. Janson breathed frustratedly.

"My dearest, darlingest daughter," he said, "a handful of my children are allergic to chocolate, and this is the closest way I could be a good father to them."

Brenda rolled her eyes.

"How many kids do you even have, anyways?" she inquired.

"I did a study-up on it," Dr. Janson said, standing up and starting to pace around the room. "I used my contacts to find out what happened to every woman I was involved with. Apparently, I have three children living in this town, and all three of them look like they'd be perfect for the Trials, almost as perfect as you'd be."

Brenda was quiet for a moment.

"Could I have at least a hint of who they are?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know who they actually were.

Smiling, Janson replied, "The oldest living in this town was from my first marriage. This was when I was involved in Zionism- as you know, your grandparents realized their true ethnicity after years of thinking they were goyische. Of course, this particular woman was the only person who could actually tolerate being around me, so I took the chance to start a life with her. We divorced a few months later, and it put me in so much shock, I decided to forgo support my former activism and join health services instead, much to the relief of all my very unaffectionate Zionist colleagues. Honestly, to this day, I'm still not quite sure why they didn't like me. I'm as wonderful as any human can come!"

"And the child? We're not here to talk about you, Dad."

"The child is now the stepson of one of my colleagues, who is quite the inventor."

"Oh." Brenda felt a chill go over her.

"The next child living here was, apparently, given up for adoption. His mother's family owned a casino somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, and they were shocked that she'd gotten pregnant, so, in order to keep in good standing, she gave up the baby, who later grew up to have intense chocolate allergies. His adopted family has a pet alligator, which I think is stupid. Growing up, I always had a pet killer bee."

"Oh, dear," Brenda said, less about the killer bee and more about this child her father was talking about.

"The other child is the strangest," Dr. Janson mused. "A rather violent, controlling child, if you ask me. Still, she's nicer than if she'd actually been raised by me. Anyways, she's now the adopted daughter of the son of the local blood cult leader."

"Ugh." Brenda couldn't help but think how much creepier this story was getting by second.

"So, anyways, Brenda," Dr. Janson said, "if you don't join the Trials, I will force you to enlist in the Quebecois Resistance Force."

Well, Brenda couldn't argue with that.

Meanwhile, the Canadian government was enlisting a draft, due to the amount of international military support for both sides during the impending and currently ongoing civil war. Of course, several young Quebecers were refusing to fight on Canada's side and were joining the Revolutionary Resistance Force (slogan: "May the Force be with you!"). This became quite the issue for Minho, who wasn't just unsure of his current political stance, but also was still suffering quite a bit of pain from his showdown with Teresa.

Of course, inconveniently, Minho got drafted.

"Lennon!" he hollered, staring at the letter of draft notification. "How'd this even happen?!"

Looking at the letter, Lennon muttered sarcastically, "Well, things certainly are becoming perkier everyday."

"I don't wanna fight, Lennon!" Minho said. "My energy level is too low!"

"Is that the only reason you don't want to fight?" Lennon asked.

"Well," Minho said, "I also need to ask the question, am I a Quebecer or am I a Canadian?"

"Or," Lennon continued, "do you actually view war as an ethical activity?"

"Lennon," Minho said, rolling his eyes, "we've been over this before…"

Lennon thought a moment.

"What if I told you that the government exempts experiment participants from fighting?" he asked.

"Experiments?!" Minho looked shocked. "Like using humans to test products?!"

"No, like the Trials."

Minho thought a moment.

"Well," Minho said, "it sounds slightly less traumatizing. Also, while there's always a losing side in wars, there's always a winner in health experiments."

"Uh, not necessarily." Lennon sighed. "Please don't join the 'war effort', Minho. You know why that's not a good option."

Minho was quiet.

"If, by the time I'm back to feeling well, I choose not to help my country… countries?... Whatever. If I choose not to… Um… How do I word this sentence? I know!" He cleared his throat. "Will you join the Trials with me?"

A week or so later, all the Trials participants (a.k.a., mostly people whom even Lennon knew) were on the outskirts of Montreal, waiting beside the Tube. (The London Tube, that is- Dr. Janson had stolen it for the purpose of transporting his subjects).

"Welcome, one and all!" Mother Paige said, smiling.

All the participants had been talking with their families and friends so far, saying goodbyes and parting words. They all stopped to listen to Mother Paige.

Mother Paige continued, "As you all know, you will be working for the better of humanity, as this is a necessary step in the process for finding the Cure."

"You know," Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang whispered interruptingly but politely to Mother Paige, "we wouldn't have to waste time with all this if Archibald had only trusted my blueprints. Is this one of those misogynist things?"

"One could only wonder," Mother Paige whispered back, equally disgusted by Dr. Janson's jerkocity. "Anyways," she projected, speaking again to her audience, "you will all be transported in the Tube, which has its windows painted black so you won't be able to quite see where you're going. I'll give you a hint, though- you're going to a place no one really cares about."

"Wisconsin?" Alby blurted out.

"Skiddaw?" Newt shouted.

"How about Saasen?" Gally asked.

"It's called 'the Middle of Nowhere'," Mother Paige replied. "Anyways, while there, you might have some difficulties, but that's all apart of the plan."

"Difficulties?"

"Please, dear, be quiet for a second. Anyways, once you are there, you'll find that there's already a Homestead there. Well, it's actually a house, but I like to call it the Homestead. Also, there will be a barn and fields with plenty of animals, and there will also be other assortments of building and landscapes that will be for your use. Of course, you will be completely self-sustaining, and you will have to farm the land, but I'm sure you're all already used to that to some degree."

"To how much of a degree?"

"Anyways, all of you should say your last goodbyes, and then be off! Be sure to be inside the Tube within the next ten minutes!"

Minho had promised himself he'd be strong, and that he wouldn't break down or blub or anything, but as he said goodbye to his parents, tears started falling out of his eyes and onto his face.

"There, there, Minho," Aunt Gyeong said, hugging him tightly. "Remember, you're doing good for the world."

"This is so trivial!" Minho said. "I'd do much more for the world if I stayed home with you!"

"Lots of people have allergies," Aunt Gyeong said. "Think of how many unnecessary deaths have been caused by people not knowing they were allergic to something! If we figure out the cure for allergies, bee stings and peanuts won't be so scary anymore."

"But Aunt Fannie already found the cure!" Minho was started to get really stressed. "I don't want to leave! Why'd Lennon convince me to do this? He totally guilt-tripped me!"

"I may not be a pacifist or an anti-war advocate, but Lennon just saved one less Korean from participating in a stupid foreigner's war. Added to that, I count my blessings that, wherever you're going, you will be perfectly safe. You're my child, Minho- I care about you more than anything and anyone."

"But…" Minho started to feel embarrassed, but he did away with his pride, knowing that only family understood the language he was speaking. "I'll miss you, Mom. I really will."

"I know."

Lennon was speaking with his mother.

"Give me my dignity, Lennon," Fannie said, softly placing her hand on the side of his face. "After the Cure is proven, be sure to let the world know who found it. Janson will want to claim it as his, but you know the truth. The truth will set us free."

"I will give you what you want, Mom," Lennon said, "and you will finally receive the recognition you've always deserved. By then, you'll be so rich, you won't need to stay married to Harry, and you could live whatever life you want." He gazed at her, and a sadness filled him. "Tell Matthew I'm doing this for people I care about- he'll understand selflessness, though I sometimes wonder if that's what I'm feeling."

"You don't feel selflessness," Fannie said. "You _act out _selflessness, and you _think _selflessness, and you _be _selflessness. When you come back from this, you will truly be selfless, for you will see the world through different eyes." She reached into the pocket of her coat. Out came a necklace with a wooden cross and Star of David on the end. "Wear this. It'll remind you of who you are, and help you to remember to pray unceasingly."

The Tube zoomed across the continent, across countless miles of land, to some remote region of Cascadia that was still not heavily populated by humans. Of course, the Trials' test subjects were not aware of this, aside from the fact that the Tube seemed to be running for a long amount of time.

"I wonder where we're going," Thomas said to his sister.

"Whatever," Jenny replied. "I'm just upset that I won't be getting anymore issues of _The Nosies _newspaper, Quebec's number one news source. Those articles always brightened my day!"

"Really?" Thomas asked. "I never really like reading those. It always felt… I don't know…"

Jenny was quiet for a moment.

She said, "Sometimes, that newspaper is what keeps me going."

Meanwhile, Brenda was trying to explain to Teresa why she couldn't go out with Thomas anymore.

"Brenda," Teresa said, "you don't have to worry a bit. I mean, seriously, I like Gally and Amir Jafar, not Thomas."

"But, I know you two have a special friendship, and I remember you once saying you were a couple at one point," Brenda replied. "Actually, I think it was just yesterday when you said to me, 'I think Tom is the best boyfriend in the whole wide stinkin' world.'"

"If you're so concerned," Teresa said, "why don't you go tell Thomas yourself? He's the one still fawning over me! Anyways, how'd you learn we were related? Who told you? I had no idea, that's for sure!"

Clearing her throat, and looking away for a moment, Brenda said, "Yours and Thomas's bio-dad told me."

"Who is it? Nah, don't tell me! My bio-mom once told me he was nothing but a jerk! Ooh! Look at Newt over there! He looks really cute when he slouches like that! Maybe he can also be my boyfriend!"

Brenda groaned.

Meanwhile, Newt was having drama of his own.

"I can't believe Ali Daoud is forcing me to do these stupid Trials!" he complained. "He ruins everything! I hate that guy's stinking guts!"

"Now, Newt," Amir Jafar said, "this is very important to him, and we have to show him somehow that we honor him. You can either look at this situation as an opportunity for a variety of things, or you can spoil your whole time by focusing on the negative. Also, this is a chance for you not to be at home. While you may hate the thought of participating in the Trials, it's definitely better than where we left."

Newt nodded his head at his brother's logic.

"Thank you," he said.

Raising an eyebrow, Amir Jafar said, "I am in no way giving you a solution…"

"No," Newt interrupted. "I'm thanking you for letting me vent. I've been complaining a lot lately. Thankfully, I know who I can complain to."

Just then, Benyamin walked up to them.

"Gally's sister is really aggravating me," he said, with his thick and extremely noticeable accent. "Her accent is _so _extremely noticeable!"

"Accent?" Newt asked. "Like…?"

Benyamin replied, "An Italian accent, I think."

"But hasn't the Respiropesce-Schallamach family been living in Yukon the past decade or so?" Amir Jafar inquired.

"She explained to me that when her parents and Gally moved to Yukon," Benyamin answered, "they left her behind accidently, so she's been living with her grandparents all this time."

Just then, Gally's sister, Olivia, walked right up.

"Hi, Newt!" she said. "So, I heard that you're from Cowsfrogfoot, which is my favorite U.K. village name ever." She smiled that infectious smile of hers and started to laugh a bit, because laughing was her favorite hobby.

Smiling back, Newt said, "Yeah, I'm from there. My mum and I moved to London when I was three, though."

"Hey, Newt!" Teresa said obnoxiously, wrapping an arm around his neck. He started to choke, kind of, a bit. "So, I was wondering…"

"Teresa!" Brenda hollered, rushing over. "You weren't even listening! You can't date Newt, because…"

"Whoa!" Olivia said. "Did I come over at the wrong time? You all seem to be having issues of your own. Let me guess, Brenda's gonna tell Teresa that Newt is her half-brother, so there can't be any Teresa-Newt slash, or else you'd all be sickos."

Everyone in the little area around them stared in shock.

"How did you know?" Brenda asked, breaking the silence.

Newt's large eyes opened as wide as they could, and he gasped, "Teresa?! We're half-brother-and-sister?!"

Teresa's face went green, and she demanded, "Brenda! Why in the blue blazes didn't you tell me?!"

Brenda sighed and rolled her eyes.

"So, Teresa," Newt continued, "that must mean we have the same father, since I highly doubt we have the same mother, because my mum only was pregnant once and swore it off after… the issues. Anyways, that must mean your bio-dad is Archibald Larry the Asparagus Newton."

Brenda, chuckling nervously, said, "The whole name is correct, except, after leaving the Zionist movement, he changed his legal surname to… Janson…"

"Zionist movement?" Amir Jafar inquired. "No wonder your mom hates you, Newt!"

"Ewwwww!" Teresa shrieked. "So, my dad is Dr. Archibald the Ratman Janson?! I can't believe this!"

They decided not to tell Thomas the awful truth yet. Unfortunately for them, Minho had been listening in on this conversation, and, the blabber mouth that he was, he told Lennon, who, the blabber mouth that he was, told Jenny, who, the blabber mouth that she was, told her best friend Jusun, who, the blabber mouth that she was, as well as someone who had an intense crush on Thomas and would gladly have gotten Teresa out of the way, told Thomas, who felt slightly uncomfortable. Uncomfortable enough that he fainted, and, kind of peed himself.

Anyways, Jusun felt like her luck in life had finally plodded along the way, since she now had a shot at dating Thomas. Of course, Minho was kind of upset to see his friend in such a state of anxiety, so he decided to give Jusun a piece of his mind.

"Jusun!" he hollered. "You just now did something only a total klunked-up slinthead would do! Apologize to Thomas right now!"

"Oh, you're telling _me _what to do?" Jusun glared mischievously.

"Yeah, I am!" Minho replied in an exclamatory manner. "You don't just go and ruin his life without fair warning!"

"I gave him fair warning!" Jusun replied. "The other day, I told him, 'You're sunk, bruh!', and now that bit of foreshadowing has totally come true!"

Ironically, once they arrived at the Glade, Minho's room in the "triple omega house" Homestead (apparently, since the Creators [Janson, Paige, Schliwinsky-Kang, Palfreyman al Jinnah, &amp; Co.] were a bunch of cheapos, they stole an old frat house from Oahu Community College) was right next to Jusun's! Worst yet, Jusun was rooming with Jenny! The two of them were sure to prank Minho in the middle of the night!

Minho sat on the bed in his room, staring at the slip of paper saying his name, gender, age, and what room he was assigned to.

"I hope my roommate isn't a total jerkbag," he said to himself quietly.

Suddenly, into the room walked Newt.

"Hey, mate!" the blonde said, smiling.

Minho rushed over.

Hugging Newt, he wailed, "Save me! Jenny and Jusun are next door!"

"Well, it can't be all that bad," Newt replied, hardly able to breath due to Minho's boa constrictor-like arms.

Into the room ran Thomas.

"I need help!" he said. "The roommate I was assigned is someone I don't know! And he doesn't speak a bit of French! Not even that type they teach as a second-language in public schools worldwide!"

"But Tommy," Newt said, "you're fluent in English."

"You just don't get it, do you Newt?" Thomas glared at his friend. "This guy is from the scariest place ever- New England!"

Minho and Newt gasped.

Then, Minho said, "Well, at least he isn't from anywhere you and I can find on the map."

Thomas thought for a second, then shrugged.

"We have to meet this guy, Min," Newt said. "If he's scaring our Tommy, we have to make sure he's perfectly safe and harmless."

"I should also see how Lennon's doing," Minho added. "He gets nervous in new places."

Thomas roommate was very friendly, and seemed harmless enough.

"Hi!" he said, smiling upon seeing people walk into his room. "My name's David Zhan! What're yours?"

"John?" Minho asked suspiciously, smirking. "Like my cousin's first name?" He wanted to act viciously cool and chill before deciding that Thomas would be okay with this stranger.

"No, 'Zhan'," David replied. "Like the Chinese word for 'war'."

Thomas gasped.

"War?!" he said. "You never told me _that's _what your last name means!"

Newt put a hand on his friends shoulder.

Soothingly, he said, "That doesn't mean he wants to slit your throat in the middle of the night, Tommy. Calm down. It's an ancestral name, that's all."

"Yeah!" Minho said. "Slim it, shank! Now, David, what sort of shady stuff do you do? Have you ever stolen anything, like shoplifting?"

David was quiet for a moment.

"I can't say I've done anything like that," he replied, looking puzzled.

Minho continued, "What about beating people up? Do you ever do that on occasion? Like, you know, some guy is flirting with your girlfriend at a party, so you totally start a fight and the police get called?"

"Not that I recall…"

"Are you insane in anyway? Like, do you have to take meds?"

"Well, I take pills every now and then for my ADD…"

"Yep! I knew it! He's an insane one!"

"Minho!" Newt said, appalled. "ADD isn't a mental insanity, it just means David has a hard time concentrating, to that point that he often can't carry out simple tasks due to outside distractions and influences."

"Hmmm." Minho thought for a second. "Well, at least he isn't a mass murderer or serial killer. Thomas, I declare it officially safe to room with this shank. Now, come on, Newt! Let's see how Lennon's doing!"

Lennon's room was sort of hard to find, due to being on the top floor of the Homestead and somewhere in the back in a corner. Minho knocked on the door, softly.

"Lennon?" he said gently. "Are you in there?"

Lennon opened the door, smiling widely.

"Hi, Minho!" he said gleefully.

"What's… up?" Minho felt a bit concerned at seeing his cousin so surprisingly happy.

"You won't guess who my roommate here is!" Lennon replied.

He opened the door wider, and Minho peered in. The roommate was a large-nosed guy with lots of wild, curly brown hair. He was dressed all in grey, except for a pair of black-and-white striped socks that were peering from the legs of his too-short pants.

Minho felt a moment of less-than-chill feelings sink in.

_Is Lennon gonna start ignoring me now that his best friend's arrived? _he thought, sudden jealousy over his cousin's affection attacking his heart like bread crumbs attack Play-Doh.

"Hi!" the roommate said. "I'm Matthew van Pels Rolfe! I'm one of Lennon's friends from Chicago!"

**What did all of you people think of this?/! Please review and alert and favorite, &amp;tc.! Also, tell me if I'm including in too many OCs! (Still, *The Dream of the Red Chamber* has about 400 or so main characters, last I checked... Not to compare my writing to a renowned work of classic literature!) Toodle-oo! **


	6. Chapter 6: the Glade & Emotional Angst

**Hurray! I'm finally updating again! I hope you-all enjoy this chapter, since I'm not quite sure when the next one is coming up! **

**Sorry it's been so long since the last post. I've been rather busy: I did a bit of traveling for the last bit of the summer, and once classes started up again, I was quite busy. So, I've got an extra long chapter, just for your enjoyment! **

**TRIGGER WARNINGS / CONTENT WARNINGS: This chapter contains mentions of abuse (particularly, physical abuse), a brief description of an animal getting slaughtered, potential violence, a character who speaks misogynistically and uses a homophobic slur, an unhappy ending, as well as depression, low self-esteem, and mentions of bullying, &amp;tc. **

The Glade was a farm/ranch combo enclosed within a thick wall of trees known as the Creepy Woods. The Creators (a.k.a., our two feminist heroines as well as those two creepers they just so happened to work with) assigned every Trial member a job. For example, Alby and Newt were made the leaders. Minho and Thomas were supposed to, during the daytime, search the woods for who-knows-what. Thomas's younger cousin Chuck was made a janitor and clean-up guy. Lennon and a New Yorker named Zart were put in charge of the fields and gardens. Brenda, along with a couple of buffoons, was given the position of healer. Benyamin's cousin Frypan and Amir Jafar were put in charge of the kitchen, while Benyamin, Matthew, and Gally were made to work with construction.

"What are we even supposed to search for in those woods?" Minho enquired frustratedly.

"Maybe they just want us to enjoy our time exploring…" Thomas mused.

Minho gave his friend the you've-got-to-be-kidding look.

Sighing, he said, "Why couldn't we at least get an exciting job?"

"Like Teresa?" Thomas asked, as he watched Teresa and Winston walking over to the Slicer barn, where they kept all the non-human Gladers. "It must be so nice working with animals!"

"I'm sure the blood is real thrilling…"

"Blood? Wait a second, I thought that… Nevermind."

Thomas was quiet for a second, then he gulped loudly and nervously.

"Those woods sure are creepy," he muttered. "Do we actually have to go in there?"

"All our job description says is that we need to spend all day in there," Minho replied, "but always return back to the Glade by night. Supposedly, nighttime outside the Glade isn't quite safe."

So, they ran out into the woods together, with provisions in their backpacks and not quite enough energy for them to keep going for the next couple of hours. Still, it was their fault for staying up all night chatting. Haha!

Meanwhile, Brenda had been given a small shed full of herbs and supplies for her new job. She'd always been interested in medicine, and would often be found as a child using remedies she learned to help friends who were hurt or sick. The wonderful Medjack shed she now worked in made her feel quite content, but the two buffoons were driving her insane, so she asked them to go and search for thick, sturdy rice paper, knowing that'd keep them gone long enough for her to do some organizing.

She took a break around midmorning. Stepping outside of the shed, she smiled at the sight of Lennon far off, weeding the already prepared garden. He was saying something to Zart in a strange-sounding language, the latter laughing merrily.

_If only I understood what he's saying, _she thought. _Maybe someday he can teach me how to speak his heritage languages. I've heard he goes for days without speaking English, and he…_

"Brenda! Brenda!"

Brenda shook her head and got out of her daze.

"Huh?"

"Brenda, you have your first patient!"

She looked straight at Gally, who had a ghastly cut across his hand.

She disinfected his hand with white sage, then applied a clean cloth bandage.

After Gally skeedaddled along, she went back to having daydreams of polygloty. At the rate she was going, though, she didn't necessarily have to worry. She already spoke English, Quebecois French, Shawnee, as well as some Hocąk and Spanish. Korean and Yiddish looked like they were going to be a piece of cake!

Just then, Teresa walked towards the shed.

"Brenda!" she hollered. "You're really gonna have to attend to Winston within the next few days, because that guy is obsessed with using those knives recklessly!"

"He's already killing animals?" Brenda asked.

Teresa replied, "I told him, I love drinking pig's blood as much as the next person, but can't he just wait for one to get a bit chunky first?"

Brenda sighed, shaking her head frustratedly.

"Anyways," she said, "is there any reason other than complaining that you're here?"

Teresa shrugged.

"There just aren't that many other girls here," she said. "We have to get to know each other."

"Aside from that, I'm nothing but boring? Beforehand, you didn't want to get to know me?"

"You're not boring, it's just that you're… so shy. I always thought I freaked you out."

"You still freak me out, Teresa."

Teresa laughed.

"Why don't we find out what each other's hobbies are?" she inquired gleefully. "That way, we could start being good friends!"

Brenda laughed, saying, "Honestly, I don't think we have much in common at all, but we can give it a try."

"I like doing daredevil stunts," Teresa said. "I also like being sneaky, like how, one time, I took one of my bio-mom's dresses, ripped it, and sewed it back together just to see if she'd notice."

"Did she notice?" Brenda had a shocked expression on her face.

"Nope."

"How old were you?"

"Possibly around four years old. I was adopted sometime after I just started preschool. I only remember a little about my former life, though only in vague images."

"Do you remember your bio-family all that well?"

"Somewhat. I'd like to think I'd recognize them if I saw them. I probably don't look a thing like my mother, though. I remember her being very tall and having reasonably dark skin, and she would scold me in some language that I no longer speak."

"Where were you from?"

"I don't know. My adopted mom says I'm from somewhere around the Alaska-Yukon area, so I don't even know my legal nationality. I remember the town I was from was very small, and was in very poor condition. I more so remember my first impressions coming to Grenouille than leaving my hometown. I was surprised at such good-tasting water, and at seeing so many pale people."

Brenda was thoughtful for a moment.

"But we're talking about our hobbies," Teresa said. "What do you like to do?"

Brenda replied, "I like reading books. And herbology and health. And art museums and cultural museums are kind of interesting. I also like hearing about people's backstories. That's a load of fun."

"Herbology and health? Is that why the Creators gave you this job?"

"I think it's cool. I'd like to be some sort of therapist or naturopath, or something. I like helping people with their ailments."

"Well, you'll certainly get a _lot _of practice here…"

Meanwhile, in the Creepy Woods, Thomas and Minho were officially lost.

"Which direction do we go now?" Thomas asked. "They all look the same to me!"

"I. Don't. Know." Minho let out a frustrated growl.

"Let's go in that direction!" Thomas pointed. "That trail of brown lumps seems to be leading to somewhere!"

"Are you sure?" A feeling of concern rested in Minho's occiput. "That looks like some type of scat, and that could only mean that some large animal went in that same direction…"

"Come on! Big animals don't generally attack, because they feel they have nothing to prove!"

"Nuh-uh! Haven't you seen 'Fox and the Hound'? That large bear tried to attack Amos!"

"Only because Amos tried to attack him first!"

Tears started to form in Minho's eyes.

"Don't cry, Min," Thomas said, soothingly. "We're not going to be lost forever…"

"I'm not crying about us being lost," Minho replied. "I'm crying because 'Fox and the Hound' was such a sad movie."

After five depressing minutes of tears from both boys, they decided to go in the opposite direction of the scat trail.

They came upon a house made completely out of candy.

"This doesn't look like a good house," Thomas said. "I read in a story once that…"

"You and your sob stories!" Minho spat out angrily. "I'm hungry, and this house looks like it knows how to get the grub on! Come on!"

He knocked on the front door.

The door suddenly opened, revealing an old man with crazy white hair and a beard. He was wearing a red tuxedo, which had a bright white rose on the lapel.

"He looks like Santa Claus!" Thomas blurted out to Minho.

"Good day," the man said, smiling merrily, "my name isn't Santa Claus, but you may call me Mr. Snow. Come in, come in! I was just about to have tea and cookies!"

The house was so splenderifous on the inside! It was made of candy, cake, and pastries through and through!

"Sit down, sit down!" Mr. Snow said.

Thomas and Minho sat down at the coffee table, on the plushest couches ever.

Into the room walked a young blonde man, who was holding a silver platter full of (guess what?) cookies and tea. The young man placed the platter on the coffee table, gazed at Thomas and Minho in a somewhat shellshocked manner, then left the room.

"Please excuse my eunuch," Mr. Snow said. "He's been so prone to staring after being hijacked. But, he was the one who prepared this meal- he comes from a family of bakers, you see."

Minho and Thomas sipped their tea politely, and scarfed down their cookies. While Mr. Snow seemed jolly like Santa, he was also creepy. They were certain this man could definitely see them when they were sleeping, and he obviously knew when they were awake.

"I generally know if people are naughty or nice," Mr. Snow said, trying to start a conversation, "so I had to fix a potentially messy situation when some girl with a bow and arrow…"

"Merida?" Minho asked.

Mr. Snow continued, "...tried to eat some berries."

"Snow White?" Thomas inquired. "Oh, wait, that was a potato, I think…"

Mr. Snow groaned. Why didn't anyone ever want to hear his sad sob story? He never got to finish it whenever he wanted to tell it so someone could hear it and sympathize with him!

Meanwhile, back in the Glade, there was a little bit of drama going on.

"I hate this job!" Alby moeaned ("moeaning" is similar to "moaning"). "Why couldn't the Creators have made me the Glade's performer, like a singer and dancer? I've always wanted to be on Broadway, anyways!"

Alby and Newt were sitting in the Homestead at a large desk. As Glade Leaders, they were supposed to respond to any problems anyone brought to the front desk (or at least the letter slot), and their office hours were almost 24/7.

"This desk job isn't too bad," Newt said, writing a daily itinerary on a typewriter. "Wait till people come in with problems- we might soon be so busy helping folks, that we'll need to hire a secretary!"

"Ooh! A secretary? I hope she has secretarial enough glasses for the job!"

"But, you're right, this is rather dull. Why don't we go outside and see how everybody else is doing?"

Right after coming out of the Homestead, Gladers flocked from left to right, with horrified gazes upon their visages.

"Thomas and Minho haven't returned from the Creepy Woods yet!" Teresa hollered worriedly.

"It's almost nighttime!" Gally exclaimed.

"They could die!" Olivia caterwauled.

"Thomas?" Alby inquired. "The skinny pale guy who doesn't know the difference between Broadway and West End?!"

"Minho?" Newt inquired. "You mean one of the few characters in the series who isn't Jewish?!"

"Thomas isn't Jewish, either," Teresa said. "Well, I guess he counts as a half-Jew. Our father, Dr. Janson, is Jewish, but his mother wasn't."

"That hasn't been confirmed yet," Amir Jafar told Teresa.

"Thomas is full Jewish!" Chuck said. "His adopted mom, my aunt Mrs. Matilda Boulanger-O'Brien, is an ethnic Jew who attends holidays, and, right after adopting Thomas as an infant, she made sure he had a proper circumcision ceremony and was accepted into the Jewry."

Everyone stared at Chuck, horrified.

"Let's not talk about this ever again," Brenda said. "Anyways, Newt, there are plenty of half-Jews but not full-Jews here, including you."

"Wait?" Newt looked perplexed. "I'm part-Jewish? I thought I was completely goyische."

"Anyways," Alby said, "let's discuss everyone's ethnicities later. Right now, we need to worry ourselves sick over the missing-in-action fellas who are still stuck in the Creepy Woods."

Suddenly, into the Glade ran Thomas and Minho with a handsome young blonde man.

"Warning! Warning! Warning!" Minho shouted. "Santa Claus is after us! Santa Claus is after us!"

"Santa Claus?!" Chuck looked horrified. "Why would such a nice guy do something like that?"

"We stole his goose that lays golden eggs!" Thomas exclaimed, taking a goose out of his backpack.

(FORESHADOWING OF CURRENT EVENTS FOR THE READERS TO PAY ATTENTION TO!) Suddenly, Winston got a creepy and hungry look in his eyes.

"But who are you?" Teresa asked the handsome young blonde man. She thought she might want to date him.

"My name is Peeta," the handsome young blonde man said. "I am Santa Claus's eunuch. Well, I was, but now I've run away! I want a new life here in the Glade!"

Just then, Santa Claus, a.k.a. Mr. Snow, arrived at the Glade in his sleigh drawn by thirteen evil fluffy white bunny rabbits. Not hares. And, sitting beside Santa Claus, were his two trickster friends the Faux Bears, better known as Mr. Panda Claus and Mr. Koala d'Eucalyptus.

"Oh, no!" Chuck shrieked. He hid behind Thomas.

"I'm gonna kill all of you!" Santa Claus shouted.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Matthew rushed to Santa Claus with a donation jar (which no decent denizen of the Commune of Abnegaters went without). He was certain that Santa would get scared that he'd have to give a donation for the poor, and then run away.

But Santa instead sputtered a laugh, then shouted as loud as can be, "You fools! You thought that a philanthropist like me would be afraid of a donation jar!"

He took a penny out of his pocket and tossed it into the jar.

"Now, for the kill!" He cackled.

Suddenly, swinging through the trees in the Creepy Woods and jumping into the Glade, came Mrs. Claus!

"Santa!" she said. "If you don't cut these kids some slack, I'm demanding a divorce with a high alimony! Remember who your predecessor is?"

"Saint Nicholas, of course!" Santa Claus said haughtily.

"And who is Saint Nicholas the patron saint of?"

"Children, of course!"

"Since you've always wanted to be like him, you can't go about harming children like this. Instead, you need to help them."

"But I do help them!" Santa was getting flustered. "I give them plenty of exercise by putting them in the arena to fight to the death!"

Mrs. Claus glared at her husband.

"Whatever!" she said. "By the power invested in me by Treebeard of the Creepy Woods, you're under arrest!"

"What?!"

"Until you finally change your ways- for good, this time- I am going to take your job." She felt the locket around her neck which had a photograph of Saint Nicholas. "If our predecessor were here, you'd probably be inspired to be good again, but, I guess anything bad you've done was your choice."

Santa Claus was too shocked to argue. So he walked himself to jail.

"Children," Mrs. Claus said, "why are you all here by yourselves? This may be one of the safest places in the world, but it isn't truly safe."

"We are apart of a Trial, an Experiment," Frypan explained. "Anyways, is anybody hungry? I just finished making mushroom burgers."

"Hurray!" everybody shouted. Except Winston, because he was still looking at the goose. But nobody noticed. (FORESHADOWING!)

"And for dessert," Frypan continued, "we are having chocolate silk pie with chocolate chocolate chip zucchini cake," [BEST CAKE EVER!], "and chocolate fudge smoothies!"

Everybody cheered, "Hurray!" and "Hizzah!" again.

Everybody ate in the Glade's Longhouse. The mushroom burgers were delicious, especially with avocados and asparaguses on top. There was a side dish of pita bread with hummus, graces to Peeta who had made them and brought them along in his knapsack. The desserts, though, were the highlight of the meal. Even Mrs. Claus, who is Queen of the Desserts, had to agree that Frypan, Amir Jafar, and their kitchen minions made the best chocolate treats ever.

(MORE FORESHADOWING, DEAR READERS!) Winston glared at that goose, who was sitting up on top of the tables and eating with the people. Someday, he just knew it, he would show that goose her place!

Late that night, Minho couldn't sleep.

"Newt!" he whispered to the blonde in the bed across from his. "Pssst! Newt!"

"Shut up!" Newt shouted. "I gotta sleep, or I won't be able to do my leadership duties tomorrow morning." Not that he ever got quality sleep, anyways. Nighttime always brought back bad memories...

"But I'm feeling restless!"

"Go annoy someone else, then!"

Minho got up. He decided to go check up on Lennon, who probably was uneasy due to all that potential violence that happened earlier on.

As Minho climbed the stairs to get to the top floor of the house, he heard footsteps behind him. He spun around, and let out a quiet shriek in fright! Jusun was right behind him!

"What in the blue blazes are you doing following a guy like that in the dead middle of night?!" he demanded. "Do you seriously want to give me a heart attack, or something?"

Jusun laughed softly.

"I was just going on my way to Lennon's room," she replied.

"So was I." Minho's brow furrowed with suspicion. "Why would a decent fellow like my cousin invite a young lady to his room at night?"

"Oh, it's nothing of that sort!" Jusun's eyes opened wide with fright. "I mean, Matthew will be there, also! And so will that eunuch guy… Peter? I dunno. Anyways, Lennon said the other day that he's got books in case I can't fall asleep, and…"

"Well, then, once you get your books, you'd better buzz off!"

They reached Lennon's room. The light from inside was showing, and there was the sound of chatting going on.

Minho knocked on the door.

It was opened by Peeta.

"Hi!" he said, smiling.

Matthew peeked his head out the door, and Minho cringed.

"Hi, Minho!" Matthew said. "Are you here for Lennon?"

Minho entered the room.

"Lennon!" he exclaimed. "How're you up this late? You've been working out in the gardens all day long!"

"You've been running all day long," Lennon replied, twitching up an eyebrow playfully. He was sipping some chamomile tea. Sitting on his bed with him were Thomas and David, who were both sipping hot chocolate.

"Wow!" Jusun said happily. "You've invited a lot of people in here!"

"Nope!" Newt said. "It's just small in this room."

"Wait, Newt?!" Minho inquired perplexedly. "Weren't you sleeping when I left our room?"

"Nope," Newt replied, "because you kept annoying me."

"Then how'd you get here before me?"

"None of your business."

Jusun got a small stack of books from Lennon, then left. While going down to her room, she muttered something to herself about how rooms full of males smell like pine cones and orange peel. To this day, I'm not quite certain how many female humans agree with this sentiment.

"So, wait, Lennon," Minho said, "you're not disturbed by the potential violence of today?"

"Of course I'm disturbed by it," Lennon replied, "but it doesn't look like there's a psychiatrist around here anywhere, so we all should stick together for comfort, right? Anyways, care for some tea? The kettle's on that coaster next to the door. It's still hot, I think."

"No, thank you."

Minho felt a mixture of sadness and jealousy. How come Lennon didn't lean on him more as an emotional support? Weren't they cousins?

"Oh, no!" he exclaimed, not knowing that he was talking out loud. "What if he thinks I'm boring and has decided to abandon me?!"

"Who are you talking about?" Thomas asked.

"Silly!" David whispered to Thomas. "Minho is obviously jealous over Lennon's affections. Those two are related, aren't they? Or is this some sort of weird slash thing going on?"

"That's a rather narrow view of the world, you perv!" Minho exclaimed, embarrassed by how everyone could read his feelings so easily.

"But, Min!" Newt said. "You and Lennon actually are related!"

"That's actually beside the point," Matthew said, smiling at how much drama was getting started by reclusive, quiet, tame, sweet little Lennon.

Peeta then said something wise.

"Human relationships stink," he said.

No one in that room, or in the Glade, for that matter, knew just who would win most of Lennon's affections. No one, that is, Teresa the snoop and Winston the creep.

During week two in the Glade, Teresa whispered to Winston as they were about to slaughter a lamb, "You know, Lennon seems to be all about that Brenda girl."

"You don't say?" Winston raised an eyebrow creepily. He brushed off some of the soft, yellow feathers that had gotten onto his shirt during the male chick culling that he'd done first thing that morning, then snorted angrily. "I can't believe that fag would somehow be able to do that. When I try to shamelessly and harmlessly flirt with her, all she does is talk about 'harassment' and how I 'just don't leave her alone', yada yada."

"Well, she has a point…" Teresa started to feel nervous. All she'd wanted to do was start some innocent small talk, only to trigger some of her co-worker's more sinister tendencies. "Really, Winny, you shouldn't make a girl feel uncomfortable like that."

"How am I making her uncomfortable? Huh?"

"Maybe she doesn't feel safe around you. Or maybe she just is particular about how she wants to be treated by certain people. Either way, you really should respect her wishes. If she doesn't want you to flirt with her or pursue her, it's best to-"

"Shut up!" Winston hissed. "You women don't know anything! You-all seem to be thinking that you should get special treatment, that we can all hold hands and form a peaceful circle, and all that such! How could that propaganda drag you down like this, Teresa? How?"

The lamb they were about to slaughter peered at them hopefully. It'd been feeling fear as it dangled next to several already slaughtered animals on a pipe in the Slicing barn. Now, though, it wondered if the anger in the voice and smell of the knife-bearing male human would delay its death, maybe letting it return to the other lambs, and then…

With an angry shout, Winston shoved the knife into the lamb's neck, driving a hideous slice into it.

The lamb bleated pitifully, in as loud a voice as such a small creature could muster, as it swung side to side from the pole. The bleating slowly turned into a gurgling sound, though, as the dying animal's lungs and throat filled up with blood. It soon hung lifeless from that hideous lead pipe, and the swinging stopped. Teresa stared at the lamb carcass, and finally felt again the emotions from when she'd first seen blood.

"I remember when I was treated like that," she said, hazily, almost dreamily. "My biological uncle was a psycho, I think. One day, my mother came home, and screamed, because there was a steak knife up to my throat. She tried to protect me, but I don't recall what happened after that. I just remember the blood, as it stained the floor..."

"Since when did you have a soft spot?" Winston asked, his tone just as angry as before. "You need to stop turning into those old softies who hate my butchering habits."

Teresa shook her head frustratedly.

"You aren't gonna join that bandwagon, are you?" Winston asked. "Seriously, Teresa, everyone else in the Glade is adopting some sort of Dinotopian diet. We'll be useless after a while if people stop eating meat here altogether."

"They hear the animals' screams," Teresa explained. "They aren't used to thinking about where the food on their plate come from. Also, if we keep killing at this rate, there'll be no more animals to kill. Any uselessness will be our own undoing." She sighed. "I'll be back. I'm gonna see if there're any more salt blocks in the kitchen."

As Teresa left the Slicer barn, she saw Olivia prance by.

"Hey, Olivia!" she hollered.

"Oh, hi, Teresa!" Olivia smiled, as normal. "Isn't it a beautiful day out today? I could just… Oh, is something wrong?"

"What? Why would you ask that?"

"There's some sort of scowl on your face. Is something bothering you?"

"I… didn't know I looked this way. I guess it's my job here. I've always liked the sight, smell, and taste of blood, but something feels off about it. Something's missing, I think. You know what I mean?"

"But don't you have Jesus?" Olivia asked. "And your friends? And your family? And, also, haven't you got this wonderful place to stay at, with this wonderful cause we're all working towards?"

"I guess so. But what if my lifestyle is the problem? I look at everyone else, and how happy they are with their hippyness, and… Oh, there's so much cognitive dissonance!"

"That's okay." Olivia shrugged, then smiled. "This is the perfect place for that, since you won't have TV or computers or cell phones to distract you. Maybe philosophizing can become your new hobby! One day, when you've finally figured things out, cognitive dissonance won't be so scary. It'll just be another challenge, which, from what I've always heard, you've kind of liked."

Teresa, for the first time in a few days, smiled.

"You're a real brick, Olivia. Thanks for listening to my griping."

"No problem! Anyways, I gotta go! Chuck needs help moving some of the pee-pots, since there apparently aren't enough in the guys' room!"

That night, work got done later than normal. With everyone's tired minds tuned-in more naturally towards negativity, it wasn't hard to notice some sort of enmity and distance between Amir Jafar and Benyamin.

"Amir Jafar!" Benyamin finally hollered. "We're through!"

"What?!" Amir Jafar's eyes opened wide with utter sorrow, shock, and despair. "No, Ben! Don't say that!"

"It just isn't working out, Amir," Benyamin said, gazing deeply into Amir Jafar's brown eyes. "We just weren't meant for each other."

Everyone in the mess hall was listening carefully. They hadn't heard an amusing argument in, like, forever!

"But, Benyamin!" Amir Jafar chortled. "I'm in love with you!"

"That's what my last significant other said," Benyamin replied, gazing woefully at the ground. "Last I heard, though, they are perfectly fine. Their life is probably even better without me now that I walked away."

"Don't say that! Please, don't!"

"No, my love! We must break up! It would only be beneficial for us all! Oh, no please don't cry! Please don't make a scene, my honey! Smile, because we need to set a good example for Newt, in case he ever falls madly in love with someone someday!"

"Good luck with that," Newt muttered to himself. "I'd rather read a good book."

"I'm leaving!" Benyamin shouted to Amir Jafar. "My abba was correct when he said there could never be a relationship between an Israeli and a Palestinian! My imma was incorrect when she said we were adorable together!"

Benyamin started to leave the cafeteria.

Amir Jafar then blurted out, "Honey, come back into the mess hall!"

"If I stay in the cafeteria, you have to leave!" Benyamin replied.

"No." Amir Jafar cleared his throat. "Benyamin, there's something I have to say to you."

Now, this was where everyone listened in, knowing that the conversational argument would take a true turn. What happened next pleasantly surprised them, though.

Amir Jafar started to sing "And I Am Telling You (I'm Not Going)". He sang it with soul, so much soul! His voice was Broadway-quality! The emotion he backed behind every perfect note was perfect. There was even instrumental music playing… somewhere… in the background. Benyamin, who hadn't known that his boyfriend could sing, just stared stunnedly.

Just as Amir Jafar got to the climax of the song, which starts after,

"Stop all the rivers

Push, strike and kill

I'm not gonna leave you

There's no way I will"

the sound of an even better, even grandioser, even soulfuller voice interrupted, continuing on with the already good song and making it better. It was Frypan singing!

"And IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam…

Telling you IIIIIIII'm not going!

[&amp;tc., &amp;tc.]"

Everyone was in utter awe of Frypan's fabulous singing voice, especially since they'd all thought he was just a cook.

After Frypan finished the song, everyone applauded, begging for an encore.

He looked over at Amir Jafar, though, and said, "Any man who stays with you only after you sing that awesome song is not gonna be worth it. You need to find someone who respects you."

"Really?" Amir Jafar looked puzzled.

"Really," Frypan confirmed.

Later that night, Newt was walking around the Glade with Amir Jafar.

"You know," Newt said, "I think Frypan was right. That song sure was awesome, though."

"That was certainly the best part of tonight," Amir Jafar agreed. "But I still can't help but wish that Benyamin and I were together still. I really thought that he was the one."

"It's a curse, I guess." Newt sighed. "Both of our parents had failed relationships. My mum married a psychopathic nutcase, and your father married a kleptomaniac turned shopaholic."

"But after their divorces, they found each other. That is the difference. If only I remember that, then I can hope that-"

"Hush! Lookee there!"

The two brothers hid behind a few bushes and peered at Lennon and Brenda, who were walking in the moonlight and chatting.

"What are they doing out so late?" Amir Jafar inquired.

Newt shrugged, then said, "Maybe they now are what you and Benny then were."

"Pish, posh! They aren't even the same gender, and they don't even come from different sides in a war! Also, they take their loyalties so seriously, they'd never break up! They aren't a thing like Benny and me!"

Newt smiled. Then he frowned, realizing that he could never feel for a woman the way Lennon felt for Brenda, leastwise how any of his friends felt for their significant others. It wouldn't be so bad if his mother didn't pester him so much about it, or if he didn't feel like the only one in the world with such a disposition.

"Newt? What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

Amir Jafar gazed at his brother sternly.

"There's something bothering you, again," he said. "Last night, you had a nightmare about Dad being angry with you, and a couple days ago you kept mentioning those bullies back in primary school."

Newt was quiet.

"Why you gotta be so negative, Newty? There's so much beauty around you, and…"

"Hey-ya!" Brenda said. She and Lennon peered over the bushes. "Why're you two hiding out?"

"We didn't want to interrupt you and Lennon," Amir Jafar said, standing up and smiling. "You both seemed so happy together." He wiggled his eyebrows at them, to which he only received blank stares. "Oh, you're not official yet?"

"What?" Lennon said perplexedly. "I was just showing her where I'd planted the black beans. I don't have any idea what you're trying to imply."

Later on that night, as Newt went into his room, he felt a shudder pass through him.

"What on earth has gotten into me?!" he hissed to himself.

Noticing his prayer rug tucked into the corner of the room, he realized he'd forgotten to do namaz all day. He'd also forgotten to brush his teeth and do his hair for that matter. His mother and Ali Daoud would be appalled at such deportment if they were there.

Minho was snoring softly and peacefully in his bed, with the covers almost completely covering him. Hence why they're called covers.

Newt looked at his reflection in the little handheld mirror he kept on his dresser. He always had what his mother called a "baby face". He'd been made fun of for it when he was younger, though normally it was reduced to mean schoolmates telling him he was in the wrong class. Still, there were those who would get physical with their bullying, which terrified him. Of course, there was physical bullying for all sorts of other things- one day, Slimy Joe wants little Newt's lunch money, the other day, Cassandra Crypt thinks Newt should lick the bottom of her shoes. One day, a group of older boys made Newt push a coin up and down the sidewalk with his nose.

He would rather face the bullies any day in exchange for never facing Ali Daoud's wrath.

As he put the mirror back on the dresser, Newt felt tears fall down his face. He couldn't help it. He'd never cried since he was very little, but this seemed an appropriate time.

"Maybe if I cry hard enough," he muttered to himself, "God will have pity on me."

He looked again at Minho.

"What's in his hair? Is that…?" Newt shuddered. "Anyways, on with the crying…"

**Uh-oh! What's gonna happen to Newt?! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks again to theevilsquiddancer for your awesome reviews! If any readers have questions or requests, feel free to review or message me! By the way, I saw "The Scorch Trials" recently. It wasn't as good as the first movie, though there were a couple moments in it that seemed to encourage men treating women with respect, which is something we need more of in movies. **

**In case I don't post again in time, happy New Year! **


	7. Chapter 7: Things Go Wrong, Like Normal

**Hi, everyone! So, winter vacation has been over for a whole week, and classes have been making me tired, but not too stressed! Anyways, I hope this chapter gives you the giggles and the feels! I was going to update a week ago, but I had to change a major portion of this, because it was just too... dark, morose, depressing, sinister (for lack of better terms). I didn't feel like my story was ready for stuff like that, yet. Enjoy!**

**TRIGGER WARNINGS: Self-harm, depression, emotional angst and strife, feelings of hopelessness and rejection... You can probably guess which character goes through this. **

Thomas and David were sitting up a tree when it happened.

"What on earth was that noise?!" Thomas exclaimed.

He and his roommate slide down the tree trunk, and ran towards the kitchen. Once they were inside, they saw Frypan and Amir Jafar coughing and sputtering, opening all the windows to let out the smoke which the oven seemed to be unceasingly belching.

"What _did_ you _do_?!" Thomas hollered.

"There's no need to shout," David told him.

Thomas scowled. _How could David's so calm all the time?_ he wondered to himself.

Amir Jafar replied, "Well, it was Frypan's idea to put baking soda in the…"

"Nuh-uh!" Frypan interrupted. "It was your fault when you added soda water to the…"

"But you put in the vegemite! And it was the last scoop out of the last container, too!"

"Well, we no longer need vegemite, since you seem to keen on putting salted bananas, pears, and mushrooms into everything!"

"That doesn't even compare!"

Needless to say, Thomas and David left without getting the full story.

"I wish they would stop arguing," Thomas said. "I mean, not that they've ever argued before, but this is just absurd."

"Whenever I feel like arguing," David said, "I always stop and think about what I'm going to say, then I try to say it in the nicest way possible. That way, I don't get people angry with me."

"You're just so perfect, David." Thomas sighed wistfully. "I wish I could be as patient and sensible as you. It peeves me that I can't be, then I get so jealous and want you to fall out our room's window."

"And I'm okay with that, because you'd never push me out," David replied. "Minho, on the other hand… He's a feisty one, he is. It's a good thing his cousin keeps him in line."

"Come on, don't say that. Minho's quite nice, and he really is one of the gentlest people I know. It's just that he's got a few unkind inclinations, and he's overprotective of his friends and family."

"We should have been talking about the Messiah. Lookee, lookee! There's Minho right there!"

"Hey, guys," Minho said, walking right up to them.

"Hi, Min," Thomas said. "What's up?"

Minho shrugged.

"Nothing," he said.

In all of honesty, he was quite bored. Today was Sunday, which was the only day out of the week when he and Thomas didn't run through the Creepy Woods. Normally on Sundays in the Glade, a lot of the Gladers got together for hymns, prayer, and Bible discussion, but today was a special Sunday. It was an hour before noon, and those Gladers who were God-fearing were waiting for Mother Paige to arrive, as she did once every month. (No, that's not a menstrual period reference!)

Just as Minho was about to open his mouth again, he noticed the said woman enter the Glade from the east side.

"Hello, boys!" she waved at them, smiling.

"Hi, Reverend Mother!" Thomas replied, smiling back.

"Minho," Mother Paige said as she walked up to the said Glader, "a little birdy told me that you haven't been eating enough lately."

Minho froze. How could she possibly know…?

He then blushed. It was true that he skipped breakfast, because it was simply too hard to get up early in the morning at times. Sometimes he even forgot to pack himself enough food for lunch. It made him cross at everything, which he took out on Thomas, who once told him he was "the second worst running partner in the world".

Just then, Teresa and Olivia walked up.

"Hiya!" Teresa hollered. "How're you doing today?"

"I had a rather bad morning," Mother Paige admitted. "But I'm glad to be here. Anyways, I'm headed towards the confessional, in case any of you need to speak."

With that, she walked towards the Homestead, which had a parlor used as a sanctuary, and a walk-in closet used as a confessional. They weren't quite as fancy as the rooms back at Saints Damian and Cosmas's Church, but for those who no longer lived with very many conveniences, they did quite nicely.

"Are you going to Confession?" Teresa asked Olivia.

"Yes," Olivia replied, smiling as always. "How about you?"

"Yeah."

The two girls linked arms, and walked towards the Homestead with Mother Paige.

As Teresa waited outside the walk-in closet while Olivia took her turn, she saw Winston enter the parlor.

"Hey, Winny!" she said. She was the only one who could get away with calling him that, though she knew it still grated on his nerves, and would tease him incessantly with it.

"Hi, Teresa," he said, smiling nevertheless.

"Where were you today?" Normally, Teresa and Winston ate breakfast together, but that hadn't been the case that morning.

"I was just out walking," Winston replied. "I've never really spent much time in the sunshine before, and I kind of think it feels good on my skin."

"Well, I'll say." Teresa gazed at her friend a moment. "You've been taking these walks by yourself quite a bit lately, and you're getting quite tan." She thought a moment, then said, "Are you Aboriginal? I mean, I never noticed it before, but now that I see you aren't quite pale, you kind of look…"

"Please don't mention it." Winston looked serious, even more serious than normal.

"I'm sorry," Teresa said, somewhat shocked. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with being…"

"I'm white, okay? I just get dark in the sun." He was quiet a moment. "That's kind of why I stopped going outside so much a while back."

Teresa decided to change the subject.

"You'd better get in line before other folks come in," she said. "You don't want to wait too long, so you have enough time to do your penance."

"I don't do Confession anymore," Winston replied. "At least, not while in the Glade."

"Is it because you want to make repentance something between you and God? I think that's wonderful! That's what Brenda does, because she's Protestant."

"No, it's not that."

"Oh… Oh."

Teresa couldn't help but groan. She knew what Winston was talking about- he simply didn't want to be absolved by a woman. He'd told her plenty of times that he believed only men should be allowed to be priests. For some reason, though, he still attended the monthly Mass.

Like with her, though, Teresa could see that Winston was softening up. He was no longer slaughtering as many animals as possible, and he wasn't acting quite so entitled or privileged as he used to. During grade school, she remembered how he'd always boss around other kids on the playground. Every now and then, if he really wanted something but nothing was going his way, he would push classmates down. Their teacher was always scared of punishing him, though, because his father was one of the most respected and charming men in town.

As Olivia came out of the walk-in closet, Teresa heard her say, "I didn't realize that belching wasn't a sin, but I'll still do penance for it, anyways. It's a good excuse to pray."

Teresa couldn't help but laugh joyfully- Olivia was so sweet and pleasant!

About an hour later, with Mass about to start, there was a loud clatter. Everyone jumped in their seats, and turned to face the parlor entrance. Into the parlor ran Gally.

"Ben's been stung by something!" he hollered.

Brenda rushed to where Gally was.

"Is it a bee?" she inquired. "He said he's allergic to bees. I better go get that special ointment that-"

"No, it's a whomping huge sting!" Gally replied. "He's lying on the ground near the garden. I think he was in the woods. I told him not to go there, but you know how he is, and…"

"Calm down, Gally," Brenda said, leaving the Homestead.

Sure enough, Benyamin was lying right by the cornstalks, his face as pale as death itself, and what looked like a giant insect bite on his right arm. Matthew was crouching beside him, his brow furrowed with utter worry.

"Help me get him into my shed," Brenda told Matthew and Gally, who'd been trailing behind her.

Once Benyamin had been placed in the healing shed and on the long table, Brenda thought quickly through the different types of ointments and herbs she could give him.

"Ben?" she said. "Benyamin? Are you able to think clearly?"

Benyamin let out a groan.

"Benyamin, if you're conscious, you gotta tell me what stung you, so I know what type of medicine to give you. What was it like?"

"En… ern…" Benyamin started to say, then looked confused.

"Was it a large insect?" Brenda asked. "How about a snake, or other reptile?"

"It… wasn't like any of those," Benyamin replied, his speech slurring. "It was big, and, it looked like an insect, or maybe it was an amoeba or slug, but… It sounded kind of robotical? I guess?"

A crickety silence fell on the healing shed.

"That doesn't help at all," Gally finally deadpanned.

Matthew then said, "Didn't you say it snuck right up on your, and it poked you with what looked like an over-sized vaccine needle?"

"Wait…" Brenda said. "He talked to you while Gally was hollering his head off in the Homestead?"

"He was completely conscious then," Matthew replied simply. "He didn't say much else, though, besides how scary the creature looked."

Ben let out a series of gaggy sounds, then he flopped his head to the side and his tongue fell completely out of his mouth and onto the table.

"Oh, brilliant!" Brenda grouched. "Now I have to do stitches!"

"No, these things are easy to fix," Gally said. "You just…"

"His entire tongue is disconnected from his throat! No wonder you're a builder and not anything else!"

"I thought you were supposed to be kind, calm, and sympathetic! Whatever happened to that? Huh?"

Brenda scowled.

She then said, slowly and quietly, "I can handle bites from any natural creature, but whatever this is that harmed Ben, it's not natural. I know nothing about it, or how it operates. For all I know, Ben could be subjected to some strange chemical only known to a few labs. In other words, I feel helpless and unable to help him."

"But this will not stop you from trying," Gally said, looking straight into Brenda's eyes. "You shall save Ben, and this shall not be your first failure at healing someone. Need I remind you how you helped me a few weeks ago?"

"But that was…"

"No buts, Brenda. Now, save a fellow Glader."

Brenda examined Benyamin's wound.

"It looks like a mosquito bite," she commented, "but it smells like a mixture between a bee sting and an infected snapping turtle bite." She searched for a possible stinger in the wound, but found none. "Let's see, there's no ice… Is there any lavender essential oil left in that bottle on the shelf?"

"No," Matthew said.

"How about garlic?"

"Nope. You used that last night because of Newt's cold."

Brenda searched her shelves.

"This will hopefully do," she said, taking down a small green plant.

"What is that?" Gally asked.

Brenda replied, "It's called a plantain, not to be confused with the fruit called by the same name." She picked off a leaf, then crushed it with a teaspoon until juices started coming out. "Do the same," she told the other Builders.

Soon, Benyamin's wound was covered with teeny green, smooshed leaves, with a damp rag over the top.

"Now, where are those disinfectants…?" she muttered to herself.

Suddenly, into the healing shed came Mother Paige. She took one look at Ben, then produced a vial out from underneath her robes.

"Use this," she said. "Inject it into his shoulder."

Brenda did as she was told.

"What is it?" she asked.

She felt nauseous, though, once she saw Ben's skin color turn a hideous greenish-blue color, and what looked like spiderweb designs form on his skin.

"What on earth?!" she caught herself saying.

"He'll go through the Changing soon," Mother Paige said. "He's been stung by a Griever, and this is the only thing that will keep him living. It won't fully heal him, but he'll survive." She sighed frustratedly. "I thought Ali Daoud said the Grievers only come out at night."

"The Grievers?" Brenda asked. "Wait, so those things Ali Daoud got a college degree to learn how to make are actually killing machines? Why on earth would you make them apart of the Trials?!"

Mother Paige simply said, "Make sure Benyamin gets strapped down to the table. It looks like it's made of oak, so he shouldn't be able to break it. Also, don't unstrap him until his true coloring has fully returned. I'm gonna have to talk to Ali Daoud about this… What on earth was Benyamin doing out in the woods, anyways? Never mind, don't answer. Our main concern should be getting him feeling better… somewhat better…"

As she left the healing shed, one could hear her grumbling, "This shouldn't have happened… He must've known they've never go out that late, and he oughtta…"

She was soon out of hearing distance.

Brenda spent a whole day by Ben's side as he lay strapped to the table. Only a couple times did he try to get up. By the look on his face, and by his screaming, Brenda was frightened that he'd want to bite her head off. When he wasn't on total rabies mode, though, Ben would just stare at the ceiling, as if catatonic.

Teresa and Thomas came into the healing shed later that day. They brought her some food and water, and helped her reorganize her shelves, and told her that Mother Paige had left right after walking out of the shed.

"She left these, though," Thomas said, taking a Communion wafer dipped in wine out of his pocket.

Brenda took it and ate it, thanking the Lord silently in her head. She then started eating her food, which was some strange type of casserole with rolls.

"Sorry if the food isn't really good tasting," Teresa said. "Frypan's been in tatters over Ben's illness, and Amir Jafar has been trying to comfort him. Not that they've been very cooperative today."

"Don't worry," Brenda replied. "They don't need to be iron chefs. If I had my way, though, I'd be perfect in what I do. Today I couldn't even be competent."

"It's not your fault you didn't know what Ben's problem was," Teresa said. "I mean, you were in the dark about the Grievers as much as Thomas is in the dark about everything."

Thomas glared at his sister.

Brenda chewed on a roll, then asked, "Is there milk in this?"

Teresa looked over at Thomas, who looked shocked and embarrassed.

"S-sorry, Brenda," he said. "I made sure there were no eggs or honey, but I forgot about your no-dairy rule."

"Where'd the milk even come from? I mean, we don't get anything from the outside world, so this has to come from somewhere here."

"Oh, some of the cows in the Slicer barn are apparently dairy cows, instead of the beef kind," Teresa explained. "Since Winston and I don't know how to, Lennon sometimes comes in and milks them for us. The cows seem to like him."

"Where'd Lennon learn how to milk a cow?" Brenda looked as puzzled as can be.

"His nona and zeyde lived in a country house outside of Pancaketown," Thomas said. "They had a cow and two goats, and also a few ducks and chickens for a while. He always liked it there."

"He's never mentioned his grandparents before, besides Halmeoni," Brenda said.

"I think he misses Pancaketown and Chicago," Thomas said. "He hasn't gone home, because he had to come here. It was how he kept Minho from fighting in the war."

"He's rather selfless at times," Brenda commented. "For someone so timid and consumed in himself, he really is nice."

"He overanalyzes everything," Teresa said. "It's annoying."

Brenda laughed.

"Brenda?"

"Yes, Thomas?"

Thomas cleared his throat, then asked, "Do you like Lennon?"

"Of course I do. What sort of a question-"

"But do you _like _like him? Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Brenda thought a moment.

"I guess," she said, "if you asked both of us, we'd agree that we're extra special friends."

Just then, into the healing shed barged Minho.

"Don't you dare!" he hollered.

"Whoa, Min!" Thomas said. "What's the problem?"

"She can't do this to Lennon!" Minho replied holleringly. "Not after what that jerk Ella did!"

"What did Ella do?" Brenda asked. "Why don't you want Lennon to have a girlfriend?"

"Oh, no!" Thomas said, looking fearful.

"Don't ask," Teresa said, deadpannedly. "If I were you, I wouldn't ask…"

Minho heard Brenda's question, though, and his face got as red as a pepper.

He said something like, "RRRRrrrrRRRRGgggghhHHlllLLLggLLLL!"

Into the healing shed walked Lennon.

"Hey, Brenda," he said, "the other day, I-"

"Don't fall for it!" Minho hollered. "Lennon, if you dare fall for her vile and wicked ways, you will end up like when you were with Ella!"

"Goodness, Minho!" Lennon replied. "Stop slandering Brenda like that, you filthy misogynist!"

Minho's eyes opened wide with shock.

"How am I being a misogynist?" he asked.

"Not all girls are like Ella," Lennon simply replied.

"That's what people say about guys," Minho debated back. "They like to say, 'Not all guys are awful jerks', which only goes to show that they are not careful enough."

"Anyways, as I was saying before my cousin so rudely interrupted me... Brenda, the other day, I was thinking."

"Well, that's good, Lennon," Brenda said. "I'm glad you've got more between your ears than just a brain."

"Oh, thank you, Brenda." Lennon beamed. "Anyways, I was thinking, and I decided to give you this."

Lennon handed Brenda a massive block of dark chocolate.

"OH, MY GOODNESS! OH, MY GOODNESS! OH, MY GOODNESS!" she squealed with delight, which was something she rarely ever did. "WHERE IN THE BLUE BLAZES THAT FLOAT ACROSS THE SKY DID YOU EVER FIND THIS?!"

Thomas gazed at the chocolate like my dog does at whatever I eat.

"That's a secret," Lennon said, tapping the side of his nose.

"Oh, Lennon!" Brenda exclaimed. "You're the best!"

She then did something nobody expected: She gave Lennon a kiss on the cheek!

"Oh, how sweet!" Teresa commented, feeling a soft side.

"Oh, how horrible!" Minho commented, feeling a scared side.

"Oh, chocolate!" Thomas commented, feeling like he wished he wasn't allergic to that perfectly delectable good-tasting goodness.

Meanwhile, during the time this jollitude and fluffy rot was going on, Newt was in the Homestead parlor. It was still set up for Mass, with several chairs, a small table being used as an altar, and a teeny bowl filled with holy water. He was setting down in one of the chairs in front of the altar, where a few Communion wafers were still left in a gold-colored bowl next to an empty, gold-colored challice.

"They care about them," a voice said.

Newt jumped in his seat, and turned his head quickly.

"Sorry about that," Matthew said. "I just saw you in here, and kind of thought you needed to be checked up on."

Newt shrugged his shoulders.

He then asked, "What do you mean, 'They care about them'? Who're you talking about?"

"Ms. Kang and Mother Paige," Matthew replied. "They both are fighting like madmen, making sure the actual madmen don't cause us any trouble. Also, Ms. Kang is the one who pays for Mother Paige to travel here every month."

Matthew sat down a few seats away from Newt.

"I hate it here," Newt said.

Matthew raised an eyebrow at that statement.

"I really do," Newt said. "Ten to one, Ali Daoud is watching every single thing I do, and that makes me uncomfortable. And, when I get back to Quebec from wherever-we-are-right-now, he's gonna punish me."

"Why?" Matthew asked. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I've stopped doing namaz entirely," Newt explained. "I've been feeling too loopy and scatterbrained lately to remember to do it. It's not like I really believe in the same exact stuff Ali Daoud does, anyway, but I've tried my best over the years to show him that I care about his wants."

"Surely he'll forgive you for forgetting namaz," Matthew said.

"No, I've stopped. I've officially stopped. I even put my prayer rug in Alby's and my office, and I use it to wipe my feet now. I've also done a few things unrelated to religion that he wouldn't approve of, like…"

A look of shame came on Newt's face.

Matthew looked down at the long sleeves on Newt's shirt. Newt started to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

So Matthew pushed up his sleeves, showing Newt his own scars.

"They still haven't healed," he said. "The last time I cut myself, I went totally wild and went deep into the skin. After that, though, I decided to stop, permanently. When it was just my mothers who knew, that was one thing, but once Lennon knew, I couldn't bear the thought of more people knowing. So, I decided to turn it into a habit of the past, so to speak. I could officially tell people I overcame."

"But are you still depressed?" Newt asked.

"Of course," Matthew said. "Sometimes. But I found ways to deal with it, like spending time with friends, or getting a hobby, like knitting."

"You knit?"

"Well, crochet. I'll learn how to knit, though. I want to make a sweater, and a matching scarf."

Newt sighed.

"That's fine and all, since your depression is fixable," Newt said, "but my problems are deeper, much deeper. I don't simply have a lousy situation- I'm disapproved of, by my mother, by Ali Daoud, and possibly also by my father. Maybe that's why he never helped raise me, or even met me, even after years of knowing who I was. Either that, or I simply am not worth the bother." He cleared his throat. "Not that I'd like him to be my father at all. I mean, he's a total psychopath. There's nothing redeemable about him."

"There's nothing redeemable about anyone," Matthew said. "It's your choice how you treat them, though."

"After these Trials," Newt said, "I swear to have nothing to do with either of my parents, nor with Ali Daoud."

Matthew felt a great pain for Newt. He remembered when his own situation seemed hopeless, and he knew that Newt couldn't be helped until the times and situations were correct. For now, all he could do was stay with the poor, sorrowful blonde, and possibly offer some consolation.

**PAGE BREAK!**

The Creators were in their super top secret lair (a.k.a., the living room of Dr. Archibald Janson's humble abode). They were sitting on the sofas and in the armchairs, eating salsa and guacamole with potato chips, since they were too tired to go to the store for tortilla chips.

"Man," Fanny Schliwinsky-Kang said, "I'm sure plum-tuckered out. I feel like I've just babysat thirteen hundred children."

"I feel the same," Mother Paige added. "But, I feel as if most of those kids were on their parents' espresso."

"Now that you two are done kvetching," Dr. Janson interrupted, "Ali Daoud and I are gonna tell you our plans. The only reason we're telling your our plans now is because, the last time we did something without you-all's permission, you got angry! For some reason."

Ali Daoud said, "Since we technically already have the Cure, all we have to do is find who will want to pay for it. Archie came up with the most brilliant idea, though!"

Dr. Janson said, "We've figured out that the allergy can be put in the form of a potentially deadly virus, which we've already genetically engineered in the basement yesterday. We're gonna infect the whole world with it tomorrow! That way, _everyone _has to buy it!"

"And how are you ever gonna do that?" Fanny asked, rolling her eyes. Those two goons were going to new levels of evil stupidity, she admitted to herself sadly. The only reason she was working with them was because they both had . Honestly, both the Trials and the Grievers were useless, as well as a waste of money and liability forms.

"Oh, we have our ways," Janson replied.

He and Ali Daoud started giggling mischievously.

"We should inform our contacts at the U.N.," Mother Paige said to Fanny.

"We have contacts at the U.N.?"

"Well, no… But, I was thinking… Oh, bother!"

They decided to call the police, but Sheriff Bingley and Deputy Darcy laughed in their faces, saying there was no way anyone could spread a deadly virus all over the whole world in one day. So, they were hopeless. Because, before they knew it, the two evil buffoons had already spread the virus.

"What?!" Mother Paige exclaimed. "It's not even tomorrow yet!"

"I know," Dr. Janson said. "But I just couldn't resist!"

The machine they were using to spread the virus was in the doorway. It sputtered, and Ali Daoud walked up close to observe the issue.

"I should have added in those necessary screws…" he muttered.

Just then, a spew of noxious-looking fumes came out of the machine, covering Ali Daoud.

"Oh, look!" he said. "I now have the Flare!"

He dropped down on the ground, gagging.

Rushing over and kneeling next to Ali Daoud, Dr. Janson shouted, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DON'T DIE! ALI DAOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUD!"

But Ali Daoud died.

**I want a bajillion reviews by tomorrow morning! And suggestions for plot twists and shipping and stuff like that! I'm feeling too giggly to not demand REVIEWS! :D :D :D =^_^=**


	8. Chapter 8: Some Gladers go to Alaska

**Here is the latest chapter of my... suspensful?... tale! I hope you-all find it interesting! Be sure to review, and give me your suggestions if you have any! :) Thanks Bluebrit3 for the awesome review! **

**Trigger warnings: Kidnapping, misogyny, racism, physical/verbal abuse, some swearing and slurring, corruption **

"Winston!"

Winston jumped up with brief fright. Then, his eyes went wide open with surprise. First of all, why was Brenda in the Slicer barn? Didn't she hate it there? But, more importantly, why did she call out to him in such an angry tone of voice?

"Uh, hi… Brenda…" Winston said. "How're you doing?"

"Why won't you let Teresa throw you a birthday party?" Brenda inquired sternly.

Winston's face went red, either out of embarrassment or anger. He stared down at a pig that was shoveling around along the corner of the pin nearest him, and tried to avoid eye contact with Brenda.

Finally, he said, "It's weird. That's all. I mean, why would someone want to throw a party for me? There'll be a lot of people who have to come just because it's a tradition, and they'll only come for the cake, anyways. Also, it's not like I've ever had a happy birthday before."

"But Teresa really wants to do this for you," Brenda replied. "She wants to celebrate the fact that you were born. How could you say no to that?"

"Well, I can just say no, that's all."

"Hasn't anyone ever been happy you were born?"

"No. My father always said he never expected my mother to give birth to such an ugly child, so, every birthday, he would give me something weird. One birthday, he gave me a strip of bacon, and, on another, he gave me a plastic bag that said in black Sharpie 'Put this over your head'."

"What about your mother?"

"I'm not sure. I never knew her. My father said she ran off with some man a week after I was born, though I saw a picture of her. She was blonde, with blue eyes. My father wishes I could have looked more like her."

"You look more like your father, in that case?"

"No. He's got light brown hair and a squarer face, and he… Anyways, what does this have to do with my birthday? Brenda, I've already told Teresa, and I'm telling you this: I will _not _be having any klunkfaced birthday parties."

"Well, if that's what you want, I guess that's okay. But remember, Teresa is going to find a way to let you know her appreciation, and, if you don't like any of it, she'll feel really bad."

"Appreciation?" Winston scoffed. "There's no way she could appreciate me. What have I done for her?"

Brenda gazed at her adversary for a moment, then said, calmly, "Maybe you've been the first person not terrified of her."

With that, Brenda left the Slicer barn.

As she walked out into the sunshine, she noticed a commotion around the Homestead. Gladers were gathered around a big wooden crate, pulling out what looked to be white rectangles.

"Brenda!" Olivia hollered gleefully. "Come here!"

Upon reaching the Homestead, Brenda realized that the wooden crate contained letters.

Olivia said, "Our families and friends have been writing to us! I found one from your mamma!"

She handed the letter to Brenda.

Brenda hastily opened the letter, eager to receive news from back home.

The letter started something like this:

_My dearest Brenda!_

_Everything has been going fine back at the res. Tyler has just started walking and saying a few words, and I now have full custody over him. He's now legally adopted! It's so exciting! Grandma has been a big help in taking care of him, and has set aside some of her dare-devil activities so she can be around more. That might mainly be because her hip has been acting up, though. Grandpa and I are finally starting to make reasonable profits with the business, and we'll be speaking with Chief Browne next week about having a portion of the earnings go to benefits for tribal members. _

The letter went on, mostly talking about family matters. Then, something got Brenda's attention.

_I've recently come into contact again with a good friend of mine whom Jorge and I've known since college. All three of us were in the same Spanish class, but he kind of got busy sometime before you were born. It's funny, because I learned he's related to your new friends the Kangs._

"It's a small world," Brenda said to herself aloud, laughing.

After finishing the letter from her mother, Brenda peered into the crate to see if there was something else for her. She found a letter from Jorge, which pretty much said the same stuff that her mother had said. It was still nice to read anything by both of them, and Brenda had to agree that the letters had brightened her day.

Minho struggled at reading the letter from his parents.

"Lennon," he said, "how do you say this word?"

"Min," he said, "that's the first word in the first sentence. Why don't I just read it aloud for you?"

"There's probably a ton of personal stuff in it," Minho replied. "I don't want anyone to hear." He was mostly just embarrassed that he couldn't read Hangul script.

"It's all in Korean, for goodness sake! No one here but you, me, and Jusun will understand it."

"Did someone just now say my name?!" Jusun inquired mischievously.

"Scram!" Minho said to Jusun.

After Jusun "scrammed", Lennon read the letter to his cousin. It was mostly them sending their love, as well as instructions about eating well and praying everyday. Slipped in the envelope were five packages of Fruit Leather, all grape, Minho's favorite.

"Did you get anything?" he asked Lennon.

His cousin replied, "Yes. There's one from Mom, then another from Jack, and a short one from Peter."

He showed Minho the letters.

"Just my luck," Minho commented. "I can't read these, either. That one's in Hangul, and this is Hebrew… No, it's Yiddish. And, this one is… um, it is…"

"The one from Peter is a mixture of English with some Korean."

"What type of script is it written in?"

"Latin."

"It doesn't look like he used the Latin alphabet…"

"That's because he writes in cursive."

"Hey, Min, Lennon," Thomas said, pulling a letter out of the crate. "Here's a letter here for you from Halmeoni."

"Did you get any letters?" Minho asked.

"Got one from my mom and dad," Thomas replied. "Also one from my penpal in Kenya, Marty. Ooh! Lookee!" He reached into the crate again. "Here's a postcard from my cousin. She's visiting Thailand."

"Then why does the postcard say Hong Kong on it?" Lennon asked.

"Oh." Thomas blushed. "I guess… Well…"

Lennon shrugged, and said, to Thomas's relief, "Maybe she'll explain it in the postcard. Lucky duck- I've always wanted to go to Hong Kong. Halmeoni said she'd take all us grandkids there one day."

"Why?" Minho asked, truly puzzled.

"That's where she was born and spent her earlyish childhood."

"What?! This is news for me!"

Minho was truly horrified.

"Then…" he started to say, not really wanting the truth. "Then, in that case… Well… But the Kang family is still completely Korean, right? I mean, there is a Korean diaspora in that part of the world?"

"Goodness! The Kang family is not one hundred percent Korean! Halmeoni is Hakka. Also, Grandpa Psy's mother was half-Vietnamese, half-Yupik."

Minho fainted.

"Does he really take his ethnicity that seriously?" Thomas asked, wide-eyed.

"Nope," Lennon replied. "He just takes his ethnic identity seriously, which is subject to go through a few dramatic changes thanks to him finally knowing his ethnicities. Still, in the end, he's more Korean than I am, though I fail to see why that actually matters."

"Speaking of ethnicity," a controversial voice said, "I have an offer some of you cannot refuse."

"Oh, no!" Lennon said, looking at who'd spoken. "Uncle Harry, what on earth are you doing here?!"

"That's your uncle Harry?" Thomas asked, surprised. "I thought he'd be taller."

Harry Kang, a.k.a., Mr. McJerkface of Toiletland, laughed haughtily.

"Anyways," he said, "I am with the Indian Bureau of Affairs…"

"You mean the Bureau of Indian Affairs?" Brenda asked, walking up. "Wait a second, you're that jerk Lennon told me about!"

"No, I'm not," Harry replied. "My wife Fanny is the jerk, because, as a misogynist, I have to make myself look good at the expense of all womankind."

He cleared his throat obnoxiously.

"Anyways," he said, "I was just testing you with the name of the Bureau of All Affairs Indian. I am in an employee of theirs, and they are offering me a large sum of money based on the number of kids as well as these kids' blood quantum percentage."

Silence.

"Aren't you going to finish the sentence?" Thomas asked.

"I did finish the sentence," Harry replied. "Anyways, you may be wondering what I'm going to be doing with these kids. I will be taking them to Alaska, where the Bureau of Affairs of India every year holds a secret, clandestine meeting. They are wanting to get Native Americans married with other Native Americans so that there will be more and more Native Americans in the world so that they can stay in business."

"In the world?" Thomas's eyes opened way wide. "I thought they just were in America!"

"But aren't there enough Native Americans in the United States for the BIA to continue on?" Lennon asked.

"Actually, no," Brenda said. "The U.S. government has realized there's a large deficit in revenue going to them from their last few wars, so they're going to have to cut spending on useful institutions, like the BIA, the NAACP, the public education system, the welfare and food stamps services, and things like that."

"I'm glad you understand, young lady," Harry said. "Anyways, I am here with my super, handy-dandy Indigenous People Scanner. I just press a button, it scans you, and then it tells me in percentage how much Native American is in you. I'm so glad that nice guy Janson let me come here to do this!"

Harry took out of his plaid-and-polka-dot man-purse a weird-looking device that looked like a mixture of a hairdryer, Dr. McCoy's medical scanner, a salt-shaker, and a Bop-It. He then pointed it in Brenda's direction, and pressed a large red button. It started to sputter and make weird sounds.

After about a minute of everyone in the area ducking for cover, the device didn't detonate like an A-bomb, but instead simply said in the GPS lady's voice, "Native American, 45%- Shawnee, Ho-Chunk, and other."

"You'll be paired with one of the over 50 percenters," Harry told Brenda. "Now, who's next?!"

Winston just so happened to be walking by, presumably on his way to the lavatory, so Harry pointed the device at him and pressed the button.

The device eventually said, "Native American, 51%- Ojibwa, some Cree, some Stolo."

"You, young man," Harry said, "will probably be paired up with that pretty young lady." He indicated Brenda with a nod of his disgusting head.

"What?!" Both Brenda and Winston were horrified.

Several more Gladers were analyzed by the device, which is concerning, considering that weird little machine probably gives cancer better than doing its actual job.

"I think I have enough kids for the Bureau," Harry said. "Still, it never hurts to see if there are more." He then looked at Lennon, who was giving the still slightly faint Minho a drink of water.

He pointed the device at Minho, who was given such a fright by the steam that the device emitted that he stood up immediately.

The device then said, in a garbled voice, "Unable to analyze subject's genetics."

Harry pressed the button again.

The device said, "Maybe Native American."

"What the ᚠᚯᚴ?!" Harry fumed angrily. "This isn't supposed to happen!"

The device then broke.

Harry let out a long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long,long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long string of cuss words.

Suddenly, a jet plane appeared in the air.

"It's the Bureau!" Harry hollered out. He then took out of his man-purse a bottle of perfume, which he sprayed into the air. Every Glader, even those in the Homestead, barns, and sheds, passed out.

**Later.**

Brenda woke up with a headache, lying on a cold, metal floor. Sleeping beside her was Teresa. Sitting up, she saw Thomas, Winston, and David snoring away in a corner of the… storage room? Yes, it looked like they were all in a storage room. Still, where was that rumbling coming from?

There were teeny, circular windows all along one wall. Brenda looked out one.

"Nekotihilenikweewa!" she hollered. "We're in that humungo jet!"

Thomas woke up.

Rubbing his eyes, he said, "Can you ever be quiet, Jenny? School doesn't start that early today…"

"Thomas!" Brenda said. "We've been kidnapped!"

Thomas noticed who he was talking to.

"Oh, hi, Brenda," he said. "Technically, we haven't been kidnapped, since evil Janson gave Harry permission to steal us."

"How do you even know that's true?" Brenda inquired, starting to feel her temper leak like (soy) milk in an old carton. "Did you see a written statement of permission and consent?"

"Well, it seems like the sort of thing Janson would do."

"Fair enough."

"How come no one else is in here?"

"I dunno. Still, this whole situation doesn't make sense. Why would the BIA start pairing up teenagers? I mean, desperate times call for desperate measures, but that doesn't necessarily mean the measures have to be unethical or ridiculous."

"Maybe one section of the U.S. government is getting paid by another section of the U.S. government to do this."

"Sure. The BIA will get paid by the federal government."

"No, not like that. The BIA mainly deals with things like land-distribution, health services, and education, correct? What if this isn't only a means of getting back funding, but also a stunt to draw attention and make indigenous peoples look like they need more health, or something, so they get more money than before?"

"That makes no sense. I mean, it'd be like… Wait a second! I know!"

Thomas gazed at Brenda curiously, eager to understand at least a little bit of this disaster.

"What if the U.S. government is dropping the BIA entirely?" she said.

"But they couldn't do that," Thomas replied. "It'd make a whole lot of people angry, wouldn't it?"

"Exactly." Brenda poked her half-brother in the nose. "They have to create some sort of scandal, then, to make it look like the BIA has too much dysfunction to be useful. And, since the BIA is technically a federal organization, they'll be in line with whatever the federal government wants. This whole whacko operation is meant to keep the 'common people' from protesting."

"Then why would Harry Kang be apart of this? He works for a grass seed farm, not the government. How could he even get a job where he uses a fancy device like that?"

"Maybe that's apart of the scandal, having 'untrained non-professionals' doing work that should best be left up to a genealogist."

"That makes so much sense!"

Just then, there was a giant THUNK!, which woke up everyone in the jet.

"Where are we?" Teresa asked, sleepily.

Suddenly, a little door they didn't notice before in the ceiling opened up.

"Hello, my dearies!" a familiar, scratchy voice said.

The kidnapped Gladers gasped.

"Gally?" Brenda was shocked. "I knew you were my father's assistant, but I never would have imagined you being apart of this…"

"Dr. Janson decided I needed an internship if I was going to eventually get triple citizenship," Gally explained. "He pulled a few strings and made a few calls with his dear friend Senator Clinton-Trump, who suggested me to Assistant Secretary Von Huber, who decided to put me in a trainee position under Chief Officer Barrenheimer. So, after escorting you to your first place of meeting, Chief Officer Barrenheimer shall escort me to the Aubbeenaubbee Minor Municipal Reservation."

"So, technically, you're going to be less of an intern and more of a police officer?" David inquired. "Don't you need a worker's visa for that?"

Gally shrugged.

"Anyways," he said, "get out of the plane!"

All the kidnapped passengers crawled through the roof exit. (I'm sorry- it's a roof exit, not an emergency exit.) All around was grassy tundra for miles and miles and kilometers and miles, and, a few yards away, there was a creepy grey building.

"I think that's where we're going to stay," Thomas whispered to David.

"Be calm, my roommate," David said. "When you're in a sci-fi story, there's never anything to fear about a large grey building in the middle of the wilderness."

Gally led his fellow Gladers to the grey building, into the grey building, and through a long, creepy hallway in the grey building. He opened a door at the end of the hallway.

"Welcome!" a booming, friendly voice said. "Don't just stand there, children! Come in!"

The bewildered Gladers walked in.

The room they found themselves in had no windows, and was covered disorganizedly with chairs, most of which weren't even standing up straight. Actually standing in the middle of the room, though, was a tall man with a goatee in an evening gown with a camo jacket.

"Good day to you all!" the man said. "I am Mr. Huuki! I will be your dorm R.A. during your stay here! Now! let's get you all to your rooms!"

"What's going to happen to us here?" Winston asked.

"You'll get married, of course!" Mr. Huuki replied, gleefully. "Congratulations!"

"But what if I don't want to get married just yet?" Winston inquired some more.

"Well, too bad!" Mr. Huuki giggled. "You have to! It's required by the BIA!"

"But I'm not even a U.S. citizen!" Winston argued. "How can the BIA…"

"You'll get married to a U.S. citizen, then!" Mr. Huuki clapped his hands. "Now, children! Chop-chop! We need to get the girls to the girls' barrack and the boys to the boys' barrack!"

They went down a trapdoor in the bottom of the floor, which led them down a series of tunnels and hallways until they got to two doors. One door had a person with a rectangular body on it, and the other had a person with a triangular body on it.

"The barracks should be self-explanatory!" Mr. Huuki said. "Now, ta-ta! I'm off to go burn down a few barns! Enjoy your stay in Alaska!"

With that, Mr. Huuki disappeared. Like, literally disappeared. It had to be the creepiest thing ever.

"What part of Alaska are we even in?" Teresa asked.

Just then, out of one of the doors walked a woman.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, smiling friendlily, "but I can't just let you stand here awkwardly. Girls, why don't you come on in? And boys, don't feel shy to go into your own barrack."

The woman led Teresa and Brenda into the girls' barrack. Inside, there were bunk beds lining a long wall, and there was barely any room in the middle to walk around. There were girls sitting on the bunks, chatting, and only a few looked at their two new inmates.

"Pick any bed that you like," the woman said. "Oh, by the way, my name is Isabelle Kashawoot. And yours?"

Brenda and Teresa introduced themselves.

"What pretty names," Isabelle said. "Especially yours, Teresa. I had a toddler with that name. Anyways, I'm the R.A. for the girls' barrack. Mr. Huuki really has no job here besides being a glorified door-greeter, so don't worry about him waltzing around here."

"He's definitely interesting," Brenda commented. "Anyways, you look kind of familiar. Where are you from?"

"Yukon," Isabelle replied.

"Oh, great!" Teresa groaned. "Another Yukonian!"

"But Teresa," Brenda said, "you're possibly Yukonian! You can't just…"

"That was when I was four years old," Teresa replied. "Regardless of where I'm from, for the other fourteen years of my life, I've been Quebecoise."

"Have you had problems with Yukonians?" Isabelle asked.

"Galileo, that's who I've had a problem with!" Teresa replied.

"The scientist?" Isabelle was confused.

"You might have seen him. Police intern. Looks like an offensive caricature."

"Oh, him! Such a rude, entitled boy."

"That's the one. He's been troublesome, that's all. He just so happens to be the only Yukonian I know, though."

"Well, you hopefully won't think of me in that way, then."

**Meanwhile, back at the Glade…**

All the Gladers were standing outside in utter shock, staring at the sky where they plane had flown. They'd all woken up half an hour ago, and there'd been absolutely no talking.

"I can't believe they've been kidnapped!" Olivia finally hollered in horror, breaking the silence. For the first time in forever, she stopped smiling.

"We have to do something to save them!" Alby shouted. "Come on, men, let's-"

"Uh, 'men'?" Jenny interrupted. "What about us women who are here? What do we get to do?"

Alby had an embarrassed countenance upon his visage.

Newt then said, "Why don't you suggest something, Jenny, since Alby seems to not be thinking clearly at the moment."

"It's not my idea," Jenny replied, "but, rather, it's Jusun's."

"But I thought we weren't talking," Ben said. "Since when did Jusun tell you her idea?"

"You're so oblivious!" Frypan said, patting his cousin affectionately on the shoulder. "Jusun and Jenny were passing notes during the silence!"

Jusun said her plan out loud for everybody, and all of the Gladers had to agree that it sounded very good. In fact, it sounded liable to work!

"That's your plan?" Alby asked Jusun. "Wow. I wouldn't've thought of that. It doesn't even require very many people! It's so simple! Jusun, you are a genius!"

"Let's get this show on the road!" Jenny hollered. "Come on, Olivia! Let's find a reason to get that smile back on your face!"

Olivia smiled.

"You're the best, Jenny," she said.

Just then, Minho woke up from his stuperous sleep.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"You, Michael Minho Kang," Lennon said to his cousin, "are going to be perfect in this plan!"

**The next day, in Alaska…**

Brenda woke up bright and early, feeling hungrier than she could have imagined. Quietly rising from the bottom bunk she'd slept on the night before, she tip-toed to the barrack door. The door had a map of the building on it, which was more confusing than those bus route diagrams. She eventually figured out a way to get to the kitchen, which Isabelle had said the night before was "always open".

Brenda walked down fifteen hallways, six storage rooms, and two laboratories to get to the kitchen. The kitchen was rather large, and looked sterilely cleaned. At least, that was Brenda's first impression, considering she expected it to be dirty. There seemed to be no one in it, so she walked in and started searching the three fridges.

"Nothing but meat," she muttered to herself. "No, wait, this one has old-looking veggies…"

Looking into the cupboards, she found a whole array of boxed-up and canned convenience foods.

"Rice!" she said to herself, smiling as she found a small red box of the grain. "I haven't had this in ages!"

"I'd suggest staying away from it," a voice said.

Brenda jumped in fright. Turning around, she saw a teenager, or young man, sitting on a counter, eating a stalk of celery. Next to him was an apple.

"Who the blazes are you?" Brenda asked. "I mean, why can't I eat the rice? Is it being saved for something?"

The guy got off the counter and walked over to where Brenda was. He opened up the box of rice. Looking inside, Brenda grimaced as she saw maggots.

"What on earth…?"

"Every one of these boxes is like this," the guy explained. "It must have to do with the company, or something."

Brenda, still feeling a little startled, and possibly a bit unsafe to be around a male she didn't know, then asked, "Where'd you find the celery and apple?"

"I preserved some food for myself on the way here. I knew there wouldn't be much I could eat, due to the amount of meat in the Alaskan diet."

"How did you preserve fruits and veggies?"

"My mother knows a few interesting methods, simple as that."

Brenda eyed her new acquaintance. He was rather gangly, and had a somewhat quirky posture. He had eyelashes long enough to make any Olay model jealous, and tied into his somewhat long, black hair was a white feather.

"The white feather," Brenda remarked, "is that symbolic in your tribe?"

"It's not put in there for any reason connected to my tribe," the guy replied. "It's a feather I recently found near an albino eagle's nest. My last name is Whiteeagle, so the feather seemed fitting. I know the name sounds fake, but there's an actual story behind it."

"Wait a second, you're descended from Talia Whiteeagle, _the _Whiteeagle, aren't you? Who'd have thought? She was amazing!"

"You're from the Shawnee tribe, aren't you?"

"And proud of it, thanks to the work she did during the third Native American Renaissance! Where are you from? I'm from Illinois."

"I'm from Illinois, also, in the Blue Oaks Reservation."

"I'm from that exact place, also! I'm Brenda, by the way. Brenda Andersson."

"Pleased to meet you, Brenda. I'm Geb Whiteeagle. It's a wonder we never met each other before, considering Blue Oaks isn't that big of a place. Which school did you go to?"

"Prior School for Girls."

"That explains it. As you can tell, I didn't go to that school." He laughed. "I went to the the elementary school at Blue Oaks, was homeschooled during middle school, and afterwards went to Pancaketown High School."

They chatted together for a few minutes, then Brenda asked, "So, how did you come here? Were you kidnapped, also?"

"Basically," Geb replied. "The government ordered my sister Delilah and me to come here, since we were two of the last 'full-bloods' in North America. Apparently, though, they're going to get me married off to a full-blooded South American individual. She's half-Mapuche, half-Quechua, or so I've heard, and holds dual citizenship in Argentina and Peru."

"This whole situation is ridiculous," Brenda said. "I mean, you know why they're doing this, don't you?"

"To create a scandal to make the BIA look too dysfunctional to be useful for the U.S.? At least, that's the idea I came up with."

Just then, into the kitchen walked a whole troupe of cranky-looking lunch ladies.

"Out of the kitchen, you slintheads!" the boss lunch lady with the psychedelic-colored hair net said. "We gotta prepare for breakfast!"

Later on that day, all of the captives had to stay in their barracks to have their measurements done. They needed their "wedding clothes" (basically a space cadet uniform), and their evil benefactors needed to know what sizes to get from the nearby Walmart.

Evening came, as did the wedding space cadet outfits. The captive youth were all led by Isabelle and Mr. Huuki out of the building and onto a ferry and to some obscure island. On the island was a mini-mart and St. Herman's Church, the latter of which the youth were led into to get married. Everyone had to wait patiently as vows were shared and "I dos" were begrudgingly said. No one seemed to like these arranged marriages.

It was Teresa's turn to get married. She was paired up with a "70 percenter" named Clarence from Vermont. She didn't want to marry him. She hadn't even met him until that very day. Plus, he didn't seem very intelligent. She liked intelligent people! How could she handle being married to someone who can't point to Lithuania in an Atlas of Africa?!

Teresa refused to say the vows. She refused to say "I do".

"Young lady," the priest whispered, "you have to say 'I do', or else I can't call you two man and wife."

"He's not a man," Teresa replied. "He's too young. Therefore, I won't be his wife. Doesn't the marriage of minors require parental consent? Also, remember, I am technically not a U.S. citizen, so you can't use the 'government says so' excuse."

"But if you don't…"

"Listen, preacher dude, I know what you're gonna say, but…"

"My name is not preacher dude!" The priest groaned with frustration. "My name is Father Papapateras!"

"Sounds like someone in cahoots with Santa," Teresa commented. "Still, I've met Santa, and he wasn't quite pleasant. Anyways, it's not that I _will _not marry Clarence right here right now. Rather, I _shall _not marry Clarence right here right now. So, basically…"

"Next!" Father Papapateras hollered.

Brenda had to go up next. She'd been paired up with some guy named Laman Young, which is a name that made for very awkward moments whenever he had to pass through Utah. Personally, I think his parents hated him, otherwise they would have called him something different, like Alcalou or Bob. Anyways, Brenda was lined up to get married to him, and she wasn't liking this at all.

"Before you start making me say vows and making me make commitments," Brenda said, "I would like to inform you that I already have a boyfriend and do not plan on actually getting married just yet."

"You're just as bad as the last girl," Father Papapateras said. "Oh, well, I'm getting paid by the hour. If this ends up taking a few days, I should have enough money to pay for a vacation to the Mediterranean."

"We are _not _paying for that many days," Mr. Huuki said. "You are going to make her say her vows or she'll have to drink a whole bottle of ketchup right here and there, in front of the everyone, without permission to drink water!"

Laman said, "I don't want to get married to this girl, either." Looking at Brenda, he said, "I have a boyfriend and a girlfriend back at home, and they both were heartbroken to hear that our threesome might be disbanded."

"Do me a favor," Father Papapateras said, "and never mention that sort of relationship in this church ever again. I mean, seriously, I recently got the floor vacuumed."

"Oh, come on!" Brenda said. "Worse stuff is probably said in the confessional!"

"There's only one person who ever actually comes here, and he…" The cranky reverend shook his head furiously. "Stop interrupting me! Next!"

Thomas was led up next. He looked very nervous, and so did the girl who walked up with him. He didn't even know her name, and he was being forced to marry her! All his life, he'd only been interested in two girls (Teresa and Zubaida Tharwat, in case you didn't remember), and this girl just was too much of a stranger.

"Young man," Father Papapateras said, "stand closer. I don't bite."

"How come we're not standing at the altar?" Thomas asked.

Father Papapateras rolled his eyes.

He then said, "You cannot go to the altar, because it's behind the iconostasis in the Holy of Holies. Don't take it personally- barely anyone's allowed back there, anyways. Just be happy that I'm performing a marriage ceremony for you at all."

"But I'm not happy about you performing a marriage ceremony," Thomas replied.

"Well, too bad."

"Doesn't this count as an encroachment on my rights? Legally, one could-"

In frustration, Father Papapateras slapped Thomas across the face.

"Shut up, you overgrown brat!" he hissed. "Now, if anyone else dares argue with me about any of the marriages, remember, the DOD has legally given me the right to get people married by force if necessary."

"Well, I'll refuse no matter what!" Brenda said.

"Listen, you fat wagon-burning bitch!" the angry reverend shouted. "You may think you're so smart, but-"

"But what?" Brenda argued. "I know this is all an attempt by the U.S. government to undermine the credibility of the BIA. How come Congress wants to do away with an organization benefiting Native Americans, but at the same time spends countless dollars on military operations in obscure countries the American public doesn't even know about? Is this all just a prejudice thing?"

"There is no prejudice in America!" Mr. Huuki blurted out. "Thanks to the Black Lives Bill of 2038, there is officially no more racism in this country!"

"Really?" Brenda raised an eyebrow. "Do you _really _believe that? Then why is it that tribal relocation has been rampant within the past few decades, to the point of creating a homelessness crisis? Five years ago, a Kickapoo nation got kicked off of their land without so much as a warning, or other land to go on. And almost two years ago, the Cherokee Nation was given a 'cancellation hearing'. While the nation itself may not have been lost, the territory in Oklahoma was taken and renovated into a theme park, making a lot of decent people who already lived and work there homeless and jobless. And, don't even get me started on _why _Blue Oaks Reservation had to be formed in the first place, or the discrimination native kids still face in schools, or the policeman who still follow natives outside after dark, or everything else that's flat out unjust and crappy!"

Everyone in the room but Mr. Huuki and Father Papapateras cheered. Brenda was rather surprised, considering she didn't think of herself as a very good speaker to begin with.

Just then, the front door of the church opened. Everyone jumped in surprised and gasped, because the door slammed as loudly as if a little child had done the opening of it.

"Could someone close the door, please?" Isabelle asked. "Oh, never mind, I'll do it… Oh, look. Who's that out there?"

Standing out on the rocks, right where the sea water splashed up and the seagulls did most of their guano dropping, stood a tall, handsome young man in a rugged, green jacket and blue jeans with well-worn hiking boots. He was carrying the carcass of a dead polar bear over his right shoulder, and in his left hand he held a still bloody spear.

"Wow, what an individual!" Mr. Huuki said. "Reverend, do you recognize that Alaskan Native standing out there, poised with dignity and strength, representing all that is right with indigenous manhood?"

"No, I've never seen him before," Father Papapateras replied, in awe. "We must bring him in, though, so he can get married to one of the more white-passing ladies. We must keep the Native genetics going on… How about he get married to that annoying girl over there?" He pointed at Brenda.

"Young man!" Mr. Huuki hollered out the church door. "Could you come in here, please?"

The young man walked through the church door. He dropped the polar bear carcass onto the ground, threw the spear into one of the walls, and then walked up to Mr. Huuki, looking all intimidating.

"May I please know your name?" Mr. Huuki inquired.

"My name is unimportant," the young man replied. "But, as I have slayed Nanuq, I feel it would be wrong to not invite you all to partake in the feast. Please, inspect my kill."

The two creepy men went to look at the dead polar bear.

Everyone in the room was quiet. Brenda and the strange young man exchanged a glance, and she mouthed the words _What's going on? _

Just then, the polar bear jumped up, and started chasing Mr. Huuki and Father Papapateras all around the church building. It then chased them outside, where a loud noise ensued, and, before anyone knew it, the creepy men were struggling, caught in a net-trap that was hanging from a tree.

The bear took off its head, revealing a young lady with a look of victory on her face.

"You were excellently convincing, Minho," the young lady said.

The young man, Minho, replied, "Well, it all rested on the fact that the folks who recognized me wouldn't blurt it out."

"No, you were that excellent."

"Come on, Jusun, you know I'm not that great."

Jusun shrugged her fake polar bear shoulders.

"I'm serious, Jusun, I…"

Jusun planted a kiss on Minho's lips.

Just then, a sleigh led by reindeer appeared in the sky and landed right outside the church. It had in it Mrs. Claus, Jenny, and Olivia.

"Come on in, everyone!" Mrs. Claus said. "It's time to take you all home!"

"Is there room in that tiny sled for all of us?" a girl asked.

"Of course!" Mrs. Claus held up a shrink ray gun. "I got this from my dear old sorority sister Valerie Frizzle. And, since this sleigh is a convertible, you won't blow off in the wind!"

"You will never get away with this!" Mr. Huuki hollered. "Those children are property of the United States federal government!"

"Oh, no, they aren't!" Isabelle said. "At least they won't be after I tell everyone about the crystal meth lab and the dealings with terrorists that you've had going on in connection with this crazy marriage stunt! Added to that, I'll tell the whole American public that this was all one big conspiracy!"

"No one will ever believe that!" Mr. Huuki hollered.

"Actually, they will," Olivia said. She held up a burlap sack. "In here are all the surveillance tapes of everything you've said concerning your conspiracies. Everything in that grey building is so easy to sneak into, and you're pretty dumb for putting surveillance cameras in a building that nobody really knows exists."

"I even found that tape where you were drinking pink gasoline," Jenny added. "Everyone will love watching that, and it might even end up on a the Ellie Generous Show!"

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" hollered Mr. Huuki.

So, that day, all the kids except a few remained unmarried, the BIA was temporarily saved, and the Gladers got to return to the Glade, ready to be safe and sound.

Once the Gladers were in the Glade, though, there was only bad news. It all started when they all decided to go into the Homestead to sleep for the night.

"Dr. Kang!" Brenda said. "What a surprise! And it's good to see you, Mother Paige, like always!"

Mrs. Schliwinsky-Kang and Mother Paige were sitting in the Homestead parlor, sipping chamomile tea with stressed expressions on their faces.

"I'm afraid we have bad news," Mrs. Schliwinsky-Kang said. "We realize yesterday's incident was a little… outside of your power. That being said, from now on, no one leaves the Glade, not even those whose job is to run. Period. A large wall has recently been constructed, and will be brought here tomorrow morning and be put together."

"Whatever for?" Alby asked.

"Dr. Janson and Imam Palfreyman al Jinnah decided to infect the whole world with a contagious and deadly virus version of the Flare," Mother Paige replied.

"But that's not the scary part," Mrs. Schliwinsky-Kang added. "They've created…"

Suddenly, a horrifying rattling sound was heard at the front door of the Homestead. It sounded as if someone was grasping at the handle. Then there was a pounding sound.

Everyone peaked their heads out of the parlor and look at the front door.

Then, the door's hinges broke.

And the door fell to the ground.

Revealing a horrifying creature made completely out of chocolate.


	9. Chapter 9: All Is Not Well (As Normal)

**Sorry that this latest update took so long! I got busy preparing for my study abroad trip to Taiwan, and, now that I've been here for a month already, I think you all might as well get at least one teeny chapter. Hopefully it's enjoyable! :D**

**Thanks to Bluebrit3 for the friendly review! **

**Trigger warnings: Talk of suicide, suicide, acephobia / asexual erasure and anti-ace prejudice, mentions of racism and drugs, etc. **

The creature was about seven to eight feet tall, and it walked on two legs like a human. Its arms, though, were incredibly long, with a wicked-looking claw on each digit. The creature had a lifeless look in its eyes, and fifteen long tongues sticking out of its wide, toothy mouth. Thankfully, it tripped on an uneven floorboard, fell, and was taking a rather long time to get up.

"Mom, could you quickly tell me what exactly happens when one has the Flare virus?" Lennon asked.

Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang answered, "It makes anyone allergic to chocolate allergic. It hasn't been going around much, though one percent of test subjects have actually been shown to not react to it at all."

"What does the one percent have in common?"

"I don't know! Um, let's see… Five of the immune people studied had black rings on their middle fingers…"

"Well, that's random!" Alby said.

"They were also starting to say eating cake jokes to each other, if that helps at all…" Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang continued. "I think they may have known each other previously…"

"When we asked about their relationship life, you know, for demographics sake, they got offended if we called them 'celibate'," Mother Paige added.

The creature by then had stood up, and was now advancing towards the Gladers and their benefactresses. Lennon walked right up to the creature, stretched up his hands and, grabbing its face, lightly flicked one of its tongues with his fingers. The creature instantly relaxed and stopped looking so bloodthirsty.

"It's basically a hungry infant with the motor skills of an adult," Lennon commented.

"Get away from that thing!" his mother hissed. "Now!"

"Now, what do these eat?" Lennon inquired aloud, now letting the creature smell his hands. "It won't want out attention anymore after it's been fed, I suppose."

"Lennon!" Minho hollered. "For all we know, it could just run on batteries and be programmed to attack!"

"Lennon!" Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang said. "You need to stop touching that creature, _now_, or else you might… Oh!" She suddenly understood: Lennon was immune.

"Now, about those batteries…" Lennon muttered. "Oh, wait! I have a horseshoe magnet in my pocket!" He pulled it out, and handed it to the creature, who started sucking on it. "Let's hope you know how to convert that into electricity." He sighed. "Someone's going to have to fix the front door."

"We need to put this creature somewhere where it can't hurt anyone," Mother Paige said. "Still, confining it will be impossible, since it knocked down a door. It might very well capable to eating through a boulder."

Lennon went into a nearby bedroom, and came out with a blanket. He put it over the creature's head. Pretty soon, the sound of snoring could be heard from underneath the blanket.

"Well, that was easy," Lennon said, beaming.

"Lennon?" Brenda inquired, an edgy tone in her voice.

"Yes?" Lennon asked, raising an eyebrow at her playfully. He then saw she was truly concerned. "What's wrong?"

"So, you think you're immune, when there isn't an obvious correlation between the previous immunes our benefactresses studied."

"There are correlations. All of the immune people are aces."

"Aces?"

"They're asexual. They don't experience sexual attraction."

"Wait, so what does that have to do with you? Why do you think you're immune, then?"

"You never knew?"

Brenda had a stunned look on her face, having figured out something that'd been puzzling her for months.

She finally said, "So, you don't actually like me…"

"I like you," Lennon replied. "I just am not attracted to you in a rutty sort of way."

"That doesn't even make sense!" Brenda shook her head and rubbed her temples. "You mean, this whole time, you haven't thought that I am pretty?"

"Aesthetically, you are good looking. I don't find you, or anyone else, hot. That's all."

"This is weird, I mean…"

Jenny blurted out, "Seriously, you two, we all potentially almost died just now. Do you really need to talk about your romantic drama right this instant?"

"Why not?" Amir Jafar countered. "The chocolate monster is asleep, and we'll be getting a wall around here tomorrow. It's not like there's much else to do besides eat dinner and go to bed. Goodness, I'm not going to even sleep after seeing an actual monster today!"

"I think Jenny's a right, though," Lennon said. "This really should be a private conversation between Brenda and me, and…"

"No need for privacy!" Brenda said. "You assume that I'll know you're apart of some weird, obscure minority, but don't explicitly tell me that you are? And, of course, you practically led me on! You don't deserve any privacy, Lennon Kang!"

Thomas, who'd been thinking for a moment, suddenly gave Brenda a death glare.

"So, you expect him to to expect you to be straight," he said, "while expecting him to be relatable to you in every way? If you'd known earlier on that he wasn't what you expected, would you have still been interested in him, or would you have allowed your prejudice to get in the way?"

"It's not prejudice!" Brenda replied. "It's important to me that my boyfriend thinks I'm beautiful!"

"If I recall," Newt spoke up, "you didn't even know what 'asexuality' meant. I doubt you even knew people like that existed, did you?"

"Please, everyone!" Lennon said. "Let's not all gang up on each other over something that really shouldn't be settled by you! It was a stupid mistake for me to think Brenda knew that I'm an ace, and it was a common, understandable mistake on her part to think heteronormatively about me…"

"So now you agree with Thomas and Newt that I'm prejudiced?" Brenda glared. "'Heteronormative' is a rather accusatory word, Lennon."

"I like how this girl argues!" Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang said. "Lennon, I approve of her. She's a keeper!"

"I'll admit, you committed a microaggression," Lennon replied to Brenda. "But, I wouldn't have noticed it, if you hadn't made such a big deal of it. If you can't commit to a mixed-orientation relationship, you'd better just come out and say it. Honesty is important, Brenda, and no one will blame you, no matter what you choose."

"Lennon, it makes perfect sense what she's going through," Minho said. "This is important to her, and you're being entirely unsympathetic, overly practical at best! Of course she wants you to find her hot. Everyone in a relationship is like that."

"If you're saying it's perfectly normal for hotness and desire to be a prerequisite for a relationship," Lennon said, "wouldn't you then have to consider yourself extremely shallow? Though I'm not claiming in any way that Brenda is like that, merely because I know she isn't a pop song."

Minho was dumbfounded, for a second, and then his face turned a furious red color.

"You always have to be better than me, don't you?!" he finally shouted. "You can never admit when you're wrong!"

"Oh, what pathos with which he speaks!" Ms. Schliwinksy-Kang commented.

"Not to mention ethos," Mother Paige added. "But, is there logos involved?"

"We're through, Lennon!" Brenda exclaimed. "Or… maybe. Let's put a hiatus on our relationship. This is all just too weird, and I almost can't even believe it! Whatever there may have been between us, let's just say it's now past the gone!"

"Ooh! She's out-y!" Olivia remarked, trying to snap her fingers, then giggling.

Brenda walked up the stairs as calmly as she could, and everyone stared at Lennon.

"Well, that was fun to watch!" Jusun remarked. "Doesn't everyone here agree?"

"It actually isn't," Minho said. "Lennon, you've got problems. You should apologize to Brenda."

"Lennon did nothing wrong!" Newt cocked an eyebrow. "Also, he was being incredibly respectful. Since when did you side with Brenda on anything, Minho? Are you so biased towards your own kind that you will reject your cousin so easily?"

"How could you sympathize with Lennon on this?" Minho replied. "It makes no sense, and you know it!"

"It makes perfect sense, you bastard! Even Thomas sympathizes with Lennon, and he's probably more similar to you than he is to us!"

"'Us'? Seriously, Newt, you shouldn't imply such things just because you can't find a girl to get laid with."

Newt punched Minho across the face, and soon they were on the floor trying to beat each other up, because this story needs angst. Thankfully, Amir Jafar, Frypan, and Teresa were able to pull them apart, but not without a few bruises on both boys.

Mother Paige then spoke up (finally), "This has gone too far. Everyone, I suggest going to bed for the night. What's going on between Brenda and Lennon is their own business, and if anyone has any personal problems they need to deal with, Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang and I will be here during the next few days. I guess we were right when we decided you all needed motherly supervision."

"Minho, Newt," Ms. Schliwinksy-Kang said, "since I know for a fact neither of you will be able to sleep in the same room, I suggest one of you find someone else to stay with tonight."

In their room, Lennon and Matthew were busy reading, trying to relax after all the events of yesterday and today.

"I can't even concentrate on what is going on in this thing," Matthew said, gazing at his book. "I think it's about a person, or something."

"Are you reading it the wrong direction again?" Lennon asked.

"Oh, that would explain it."

"My book is about some kids and a stupid dumb maze with a monster or two in it."

"Theseus in Crete fighting the fearsome Minotaur?"

"No, something else. Anyways, I'm ready to just fall asleep."

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Lennon said.

In walked Newt.

"Would it be alright if I stayed here with you?" he asked.

"Of course," Matthew said. "We were just ready to go to sleep. You feeling drowsy?"

Newt shrugged his shoulders. He then smiled.

It was good to know that Minho's cousin and Minho's cousin's best friend, though strange as Willy Wonka and elusive as Ben Kenobi, were sweet and gentle. And a little relatable.

Meanwhile, Teresa was still awake, and in the parlor, speaking with Mother Paige and Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang.

"I'm very glad you've come to this decision," Mother Paige said. "It was a bit surprising at first when you told me you didn't know the Lord, but then you told me your life story. And now, after all this time, you've finally seen the light."

"Well, if it wasn't for the fact that I knew so many wonderful followers of Christ," Teresa said, "I wouldn't have even thought of converting. But folks like the Boulanger-O'Briens and the Kangs and Olivia and Brenda, they showed me examples of what God's love is like. I want to be able to show others that love, also."

"And your family?" Ms. Schliwinksy-Kang asked. "Would you like me to help you tell them?"

"When the time comes," Teresa replied. "Maybe later in my catechumenate, or even after I'm finally baptized. It's not like they'll raise too much of a fuss, since I've been going to church with Thomas for years by now. Grandpa Jed is the only one I'm concerned about, because he's really invested in that blood cult of his."

"Then don't worry," Mother Paige said. "If your family tolerates your decision, Jed will have to. I should know- he was always spineless, even back in high school, and could never say no to the demands of a group of people. That's how he got involved with LSD."

Teresa giggled. Everyone in town knew that Jed was a hardcore druggy, and even ran the black market on drugs in five different towns besides Grenouille.

She then asked, "So, where do I start?"

"Since there are no official classes being held here," Mother Paige said, "I will be mentoring and teaching you. It would be more convenient to go back to Grenouille, since then I could get you a sponsor or godparent, but you can't go back because, at the moment, it's completely run over with chocolate creatures. You'll still be involved with the Christ-following community over here, like you have been since you all came, so it won't be a big change for you. Also, you'll be given a copy of the Bible, as well as a catechism."

After a few more minutes of talking, Teresa said "good night" to Mother Paige and Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang, then headed upstairs to go to bed.

Just as she was about to turn the doorknob to enter her room, leaving behind the day with mostly memories and emotions, she heard the sound of someone clearing his throat.

"Winston?" she asked. "What're you still doing up?"

"Nothing," Winston replied. He was in his long nightshirt and slippers, as well as a pair of rather obnoxiously baggy slacks. Teresa had never before seen him in his nightclothes, and couldn't help but laugh.

Winston glared at her for a second, then joined in the laughter.

"Anyways, Teres," he said, "about you asking if I wanted a birthday party or not, I decided yes, but on one condition."

"And what is that?" Teresa raised an eyebrow.

"I'd like to give _you_ something."

"Fair enough."

Winston reached down the collar of his nightshirt, then pulled out a locket. He took the locket off from around his neck, and held it out to Teresa, who looked somewhat shocked.

"How did you…"

"I just got it, that's all." He smiled at her. "What do you think of it?"

"It's beautiful."

Teresa opened the locket.

"It still needs a picture," she said. "Still, if someone gets ahold of a camera around here, they can take a picture of us together."

She gazed at the young man opposite her.

"Teresa," Winston said, nervously, "I just wanna say… I, uh… What would you think if… Um…"

Teresa gently put her hands around Winston's face, and kissed him on the mouth.

At first, he was horrified, and struggled to get away, then he just gave in and kissed her back.

Because all turdbag jerk boys are like that when a girl finally gives them PDA because of actual love and respectful affection. Silly boys.

**Page break!**

"When should we tell them about Ali Daoud's death?"

"Certainly not now. Newt's not in the mental or emotional state to bear it."

"It's not like he even cared for Ali Daoud… If you ask me, the one I'm concerned for is Amir Jafar. He's the one with the slightest personal feelings for that awful man."

"Whatever happens, will it be any consolation to tell them it was a quick, painless death?"

"That would only anger them more. For revenge reasons, I should assume."

"Fannie, you keep thinking they have a personal vendetta against their father."

"It's perfectly normal for kids in their situation. I used to have violent fantasies, even after becoming a pacifist. But, back to the original question, Ava, when should we tell the boys about Ali Daoud's death?"

"Tomorrow? If God says to do so, tomorrow or never."

**Page break!**

The very next morning, Frypan and Amir Jafar were in the kitchen teaching Chuck how to make pancakes.

"Do you always make pancakes out of kamut?" Chuck asked.

"Kamut is perfect for breakfast," Frypan said. "On the other hand, rye is for lunch, and wheat is for dinner."

"But what about the matzo meal?" Chuck asked. "Do you use wheat when you make that? And what about egg rolls?"

"Well, the matzo balls we put in the split-pea soup for lunch yesterday were left-overs from the night before," Amir Jafar said. "And the egg rolls were sweetened kamut and barley mixed with soy flour, among other ingredients. Still, I think we can all agree that the best plant to make food from is the potato. I've heard a rumour floating around that Frypan makes excellent potato bread…"

"That's only in autumn when I do that," Frypan explained. "Speaking of autumn, we'd better have enough veggies stocked up, or else this'll be one scanty Thanksgiving. I sure wish Peeta was still here with us. He never wrote down that list of weird holiday foods from the Great Depression, even though he'd promised he would."

Just then, Chuck screamed. The two older Gladers noticed that two strangers were in the room, and probably had walked in only just recently. They were obviously brother and sister, judging by their similar faces, but the male was gangly, clad in a baggy green shirt with burgundy skinny jeans, and had a few flowers in his somewhat messy hair, while the female was dressed in a black-and-white suit, with her hair pulled tightly back in a bun.

"So sorry for startling you!" the male said. "Anyways, we're new here, and were just taking a peek in here when we stopped to listen to the conversation."

"New people?" Amir Jafar asked. "Here? Last I heard, there were chocolate monsters all throughout the countryside. How you managed to get here is beyond me."

"The chocolate monsters don't affect me." The male shrugged his shoulders. "Anyways, I was led here, and so was Delilah."

"How many times do I have to tell you," the female said, "that I'm no longer Delilah. I'd like to be called Ella."

"Sorry," the male said. "Anyways, I guess you already know… Ella's… name. My name is Geb, Geb Whiteeagle." He did a slight bow.

"Why are you called a white eagle?" Frypan asked. "I mean, you aren't even a white person."

Chuck giggled.

Ella replied, "It's our last name."

"What brings you here?" Amir Jafar asked.

"The why? The occasion?" Geb replied. "I don't know. The Who is another answer altogether. The Good Lord simply wanted me to come in this direction, and He wanted me to bring Ella along. We decided to take the route through Aztlan to get here, since with our current documentation it would have been too much trouble getting to Cascadia through the U.S. side."

Amir Jafar said, "Well you seem like decent people, and if Dr. Kang and Mother Paige let you in, I'm more than alright with that. Hey, once the first two pancakes are ready, wanna…"

Just then, Minho walked into the kitchen.

"I'm utterly famished!" he said. "When's breakfast ready?"

Just then, he stopped, staring stunnedly at Ella.

He then let out a vicious, "You!"

"Hello, Minho," Ella said, sassily putting a hand on her hip. "I see you still have no knowledge how to politely greet someone."

"You have no idea what you put Lennon through!" Minho exclaimed furiously. "You have got to be the most detestable human being I can think of!"

"Excuse me?" Chuck interrupted. "Have you even met Dr. Janson? He's pretty awful…"

"Ella is worse!" Minho hollered. "Dr. Janson's a sadistic turd to everyone, but this devil-woman attempted to ruin and wreck the life of my favorite cousin! That's grounds for getting her incarcerated for life! Maybe incinerated for life, too!"

Ella rolled her eyes.

"You are such a wanker," she said.

Just then, into the kitchen walked yet another person.

"Amir Jafar!" Newt said. "I was wondering… Oh, no! You!" He glared at Minho.

"Well, hello to you, too," Minho glared back at Newt.

Newt cleared his throat, and was about to say something to Amir Jafar, when he got interrupted.

"Oh, there you go!" Minho said. "You're now ignoring me, aren't you, Newt?"

Newt decided to keep giving Minho the silent treatment, but that didn't seem like it would work for long.

"Who cares if he ignores you?" Ella said. "Listen, twerpy Minny, if that blonde bishonen decides you aren't worth talking to, then you might as well..."

"IF YOU'RE ALL GONNA ARGUE, LEAVE MY KITCHEN NOW!" Frypan hollered.

"Ella, it would be a good idea if we went and explored other areas of the building," Geb suggested calmly and quietly. "You're getting involved with a fight that isn't even yours, not to mention this already old fight that you're still involved in for some reason."

He gave his sister a gentle stare, and she seemed to calm down a bit.

"Alright," she said. "Let's see other parts of the building."

Geb then gazed at Newt and Minho, who looked ready to have a fist fight.

"Would one of you like to show us around?" he asked.

"Why would we do that?" Minho asked. "We're busy."

"I see that," Geb replied. "But, you don't seem happy being busy, especially since it's being busy doing an unproductive activity."

Newt seemed to instantly start thinking about what he'd just heard, a look of both confusion and revelation on his face.

He then sighed, and said, "I'll show you two around."

Needless to say, breakfast that morning was rather awkward, due to the drama of last night and the current drama of months ago when Ella decided act like a jerkbag.

"I noticed the atmosphere in here is kind of thick," Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang commented to Lennon as they were eating their pancakes. "Thick like split-pea soup mixed with molasses and Nyquil. And, you have two official ex- extra special friends in the same mess hall as you. Who would have thought? It's like my class reunions."

Lennon didn't think his mother was being very sympathetic, but decided to remain quiet. Which, of course, she noticed.

"Cat got your tongue?" she asked.

"There are two things you need to know about this situation I'm in right now," Lennon said, after taking a moment to think. "First off, I feel terrible. And some of the people who I'd thought would be supportive _aren't _being supportive. And, second off, what Brenda did last night was her own choice, and she has every right to be picky about what guys she goes out with. Ella, on the other hand, can go get lost ."

"You're mature for your age," Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang commented. "When I was your age, I would have… Nevermind."

Just then, Zart sat down next to Lennon.

"We gotta get to the garden soon," he said, impatiently. "The potatoes need to be replanted!"

"But just the other day, we..." Lennon started to comment.

"Whatever. Anyways, the potatoes. Remember."

With that, Zart left the dining hall, and, looking out the window, Lennon could see that he was making a beeline to the gardens.

"He speaks Yiddish with an interesting accent," Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang commented.

"New York Yiddish is rather different from Illinoian Yiddish. He also grew up speaking Ladino, so it rubs off every now and then on his other forms of speaking. Not that he talks much in general."

"I always wished your nona could have spoken to me in Ladino while I was growing up. It would have been nice learning it."

"But you're already fluent in six languages, so that might make up for it."

"Ancestral languages are important. To you, Ladino might sound like weird Spanish, but it's a real language in its own right that's almost dead and in desperate need of revival. I was a terrible parent for only teaching you Yiddish, when there were plenty of other endangered languages I could have passed on to you. Of course, Halmeoni was worse, not teaching your father and uncles how to speak Hakka and Cantonese."

**Later that day…**

"You can't do this!"

"I have to. And now that you know what I plan, you have to turn a blind eye on it. I can't have you take away my ability to choose what I do with my life."

"But death is permanent, Yitzhak, and attempting this won't fix your problems. I should know. I've tried it three times."

"Yet you know very well where I'll be going once the Trials are over, how I'll be returned to that fucked up situation."

"You don't have to, though! You're legally an adult, and can choose where you want to live. My moms would be more than willing to take you in until you can live on your own."

"I'm already all on my own. I'm certain my own brother doesn't notice just how horrible I feel. Because the process is slow, he hasn't noticed that I'm handling things worse day by day."

"You don't have to feel that way. You are loved."

"Will I feel that way, wherever I go? Once I die, I mean. Where does one's soul and spirit go after he or she dies?"

"I… don't know. Momma only mentioned an afterlife to me once, and it was so long ago and so vague that I forgot what she said."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But right now, life is what's important, no matter how lonely and awful it is, no matter what monster you must face. Ali Daoud isn't permanent, but the effect you have on other's lives is."

"But I can't live. I've tried it, and it's too hard."

"Still, there is an alternative, I guess. I just thought of it, just this millisecond. Maybe neither of us has been looking at all your options…"

**The next day…**

"Where's Newt?" Amir Jafar asked. "I haven't seen him all day!"

Thomas was sitting on a tree stump, clipping his toenails.

"I haven't seen him either, come to think of it," Thomas replied. "Why'd you just now notice he'd disappeared?"

"Well, I don't quite think he's disappeared, though, now that Mrs. Kang and Mother Paige want to speak with us, he seems to have taken to hiding."

For the next two hours, Amir Jafar searched for his brother. The little blonde fluffhead was nowhere to be found, though.

Upon searching Newt's room for the sixteenth time, though, Amir Jafar noticed a note peeking out from under the covers. He read it, fear and anguish clutching him.

It said:

_I've had enough of this. Life has been just too hard, and no one's seemed to truly understand. This morning seems like a lovely time for such an occasion. All in all, even more so than the many crappier-than-excrement problems I already have, my main intention is to never return home to Ali Daoud. At the bottom of the river is where I feel my new resting place rests. Don't worry about me, or even mourn this moment. It's not like it's a loss, or any of that rot._

Amir Jafar showed the note to his friends, who all took turns comforting him. Tears flowed down the faces of many. Why did this have to happen? Newt was so young, so kind, so gentle.

Matthew of course couldn't keep a secret without first telling Lennon. They were in their room, trying to keep their voices down.

"When will you tell him the truth?" Lennon asked.

"Newt will," Matthew replied. "Eventually."

"I wish there was another way Newt could have done this…"

"He said he doesn't want anyone following him, and some sort of death was the only thing we could think of. I convinced him that this will be like death, but, in the end, if he decides it's not the new start or adventure he wanted, he'll at least see who actually cares."

"It's a pretty depressing option, that's for sure."

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!" Matthew suddenly shrieked. "If it's the gay Muslim guy, he'll totally demand the truth! He's figured out already that this is a lie! Help me, Lennon!"

"Get a grip!" Lennon put a hand over his friend's mouth, then said, "We don't even know who on earth knocked on the door."

He opened the door.

"Ugh, you," he said.

"Hello, my darling ex!" Ella said, walking into the room. "I wanted to see what your humble abode looks like, though it appears as crappy as the conditions you were in the last time we met…"

"Are you here just to insult me?" Lennon asked. "Or is there some productive reason for walking up all those stairs and coming down the hallway to this specific room?"

"Mainly just to insult you," Ella replied. "Of course, you're the most fun ex I've ever had, especially considering I've been able to awkwardly meet up with you at horrible moments."

"Wait, you rate how 'fun' your exes are?" Matthew inquired.

"Of course." Ella cleared her throat. "It can best be summed up in a song."

Suddenly, random background music could be heard.

Then Ella began to sing.

"_Nice to meet you_

_Where you been?_

_I can show you incredible things!_

_Magic, madness, Heaven, sin_

_Saw you there and I thought_

_OMG, look at that face!_

_You look like my next gullible and entirely unsuspecting victim!_

_Loves a game,_

_Wanna play?" _

She then got to the chorus:

"_Oh, it's gonna be forever_

_Or it's gonna go down the drain._

_Let me tell you if it's true that_

_Wrecking ball was on a crane._

_Gotta love those Starbucks lovers_

_They'll tell you I'm insane._

_My heart's a blank space, baby,_

_And I'll write your name._"

She went on to the second verse.

"_Charcoal lips, dreary skies, _

_I can show you incredible things._

_No kisses, lots of lies. _

_You're the king baby and I_

_Will find out what you want_

_Even if it's a racist caricature,_

_Because…_"

"Delilah!" Geb hollered in shock and relief, entering the room, the background music suddenly stopping. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"How dare you interrupt my absolutely amazing Broadway-style showtune song!" Ella gave her brother a death glare.

"Yeah, well, I don't like that song," Geb replied. "I'd suggest singing something a little more uplifting, like 'True to Your Heart', or 'Shake It Off', or 'Beautiful'..."

"How about you sing 'Because I'm Stupid'?"

"When'd you arrive?" Lennon asked. "Was it just now, or did you listen to the whole song?"

"I just arrived," Geb replied. "Anyways, which direction did Newt go?"

"What?" Lennon and Matthew were perplexed.

"Geb," Ella said, "did you totally not get the memo that Newt died?"

"I heard he disappeared, and wrote what seemed to be a suicide note, but I know he isn't dead."

"Were you listening in on mine and Lennon's conversation?" Matthew asked.

"What conversation?" Now it was Geb's turn to look confused.

Matthew ran a hand frustratedly through his hair.

He then said, "Newt never told me where he was going. I don't even know if there are towns nearby. I just hoped he'd survive, come back when he finally figures out there's nothing for him out in nature."

Geb was quiet for a moment, then said, "Walk in a northwesterly direction for a little less than an hour. He needs help, immediately."

The strange young male left the room.

"And you call yourself a racist caricature?" Lennon said to Ella. "Your brother so totally has the peaceful, spiritual Native stereotype down to-the-tee."

"I never said I was a caricature of any kind," Ella said. "I simply said I could be that if the male, or female, I'm breaking the heart of desires me to be so. Anyways, don't criticize Geb. He's one of the few humans who loves me even after all I've done. He says it's the right thing to do, though I know plenty of people as pious as he is who still curse at me."

She cleared her throat.

"Before I leave this cramped, disgusting room," she said, "I would advise you to do what Geb says. It's not like he's always correct- on the other hand, the One telling him things is always correct."

**Later.**

Newt had somehow found himself in a strange part of the Creepy Woods, and, of course, had gotten lost. Being unused to walking through forests, all the trees looked the same to him, and he was pretty sure he'd fallen into poison oak three times by now. Not that he was allergic to poison oak- Amir Jafar, on the other hand, was bound to get a rash just from hugging Newt, so the blonde knew he should at the very least change his clothes.

"Stinkin' poison oils get everywhere," he muttered to himself as he rummaged through his backpack. "And, oh, just my luck. I only brought one jacket, and… I forgot the green tea crackers! Oh, well. I'll just be content with the sandwiches and granola bars. Now, would it shock the animals if I changed out in the open? Maybe I should…"

Just then, he heard a strange, shrieking noise that sent chills up his spine.

"Sweet Scheherazade!" he exclaimed to himself. "What the heck was that?!"

The shrieking noise continued, and Newt crept in the direction it was coming from. The woods were thick, but he noticed that, roughly camouflaged with the color of the tree bark, there was something moving in the distance. As he got closer, he noticed it was some sort of hairy animal. As he got closer, he realized it was two large, hairy animals in the middle of some sort of brawl. Stupidity overcoming curiosity overcoming the natural reaction to run away, Newt kept observing the creatures.

The creatures stopped fighting, obviously smelling the air. And that's when Newt realized what he was looking at, which is why he finally did what any normal human would do.

If you saw a couple of Sasquatches, you would run also.

Too bad they noticed Newt.

And too bad he tripped and fell while in the middle of running.

**Gasp! Is Newt gonna die? Please remember to review, so I know how angry all you readers are that I would dare let Newt go through any kind of trouble! :D**


	10. Chapter 10: Life is a Soap

**Two weeks till I return to the U.S.! There's still so much of Taiwan I haven't seen! :D**

**Also, good news: I got my first semi-negative review! That means my story is critique-worthy, which is good! Sadly, I'm unable to message the reviewer, so I'll post it my short reply here: I kind of realize my story might be rather immature. Still, I thought I made it obvious that Lennon wasn't blaming Brenda. If I didn't, sorry. :/ At the same time, I also wanted to display Newt and Thomas's anger because for a lot of "sociologically incorrect" young people first getting involved in understanding their self-worth, like myself at one point, it's easy to point fingers and later learn they'd criticized an innocent person. **

**Trigger warnings: Mention of a (fake) suicide, mention of fat-shaming, &amp;tc. **

Brenda ran her fingers through her hair frustratedly as she sat on the doorstep right outside the Healing Shed. It'd only been a day after a small search party consisting of Minho, Thomas, and Teresa had gone off to look for Newt, but she still was wishing there was something she could do to help. She was surprised that Minho was willing to go do the searching, until she reminded herself that Minho wasn't heartless and truly cared about his friend.

"Here's the mint you wanted," that familiar voice said.

Brenda looked up to see Lennon standing above her. He was holding a basket of mint leaves, and his hands were lightly covered in dirt. His hair was a mess.

"You must be working hard today," she said. "You normally look impeccable, even after hours in the garden."

"That's because I normally wash up before giving you herbs," Lennon replied, a slight edge to his voice. "I didn't have time today." His left ear twitched angrily.

The tired girl realized she might have just now insulted his work ethic.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was just making a comment, because…"

"Don't worry about it."

Lennon left the basket at Brenda's feet, and walked away. He was frustrated that he had to have personal drama on top of being worried about Newt in the wilderness. It was extremely inconvenient, and distracted from the actual plot of this story (whatever that might be).

_Don't be angry at Brenda, _he thought to himself. _Don't be angry at your friends, or Minho, or anyone… This anger's so relentless. I can't handle it. I want to break someone's arm…_

His mother was standing by the garden, chatting with Zart.

"Good day, Lennon," she said as her son reached the garden. "You look angry today."

"How do you know?" Lennon knew he was fairly good at hiding his anger.

"Because Zart sent you over to Brenda."

"I volunteered. He didn't seem to want to get near her because she once made him drink disgusting medicine."

"All I had was a summer cold," Zart said, "and that jerk tried to poison me!"

Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang chuckled softly.

"Anyways," she said, "I would like to inform you of some very good news from back at home."

"Whippoorwill's finally getting divorced?"

"Sadly, no. The good news is that Jack's organization is getting sued, which means it's message is getting media attention and spreading to more people."

Lennon beat his head for a second. News just kept getting worse and worse. Jack's organization needed more public knowledge, but the method with which it was now spreading the word was simply depressing.

"I've got news also," Zart said. "I just now remembered this. I saw it in a newspaper that Mother Page brought the other day. Samuel Zuckerheimerstein is now in the finals for presidential candidacy."

"Ugh…" Lennon groaned. "Not him. That guy is the full-embodiment of a misogynist, racist, anti-Semitic, anti-immigrant, ableist warhawk if there ever was one!"

He now understood the meaning of "No news is good news".

Meanwhile, back in the Healing Shed, Brenda was washing the mint leaves in a bucket of water. She found herself humming an old tune that she hardly remembered the words to.

"Drat," she suddenly muttered to herself. "Jenny and Jusun were wanting that pain-killing tea. Jenny especially needs them. That poor girl- if I got menstrual cramps as painful as hers, I don't know how I'd get up in the morning."

She was busy mixing herbs together, particularly black haw and black cohosh, when she heard a knock on the Shed door, and in walked Olivia.

"Brenda!" Olivia said, smiling as normal. "Jenny and Jusun were wondering when you'd bring those herbs up to their room!"

"I was just working on that," Brenda replied. She couldn't help but smile back at Olivia. "Will you be needing some soon, also?"

"Maybe," Olivia replied. "I haven't had my period in six weeks, so there's bound to be a really bad one coming up!"

"Um… Okay, then. That's… really awful." She shuddered. "I'll finish mixing the tea in a moment."

"Okey-dokey!"

_I wonder if Teresa's wanting some of this tea, also, _Brenda wondered. _Still, it's not like she'd care. If there's someone who doesn't notice pain, it's her. She probably wouldn't notice an anvil repeatedly falling on her head for five days straight... _

Teresa was currently having a lot of fun trekking through the woods, in search of Newt. She was tempted to follow every bear scat trail she came across, though, inconveniently, those trails tended to go off the path she and her companions were supposed to go.

"Are we almost there?" she asked.

It would be lying to say they hadn't gone off the path at all. They expected to get where they needed to at the time they needed to- Geb had said they'd reach their destination in a little less than an hour. _But _there had been a hornet nest that had fallen right in their path, and they had to find their way around a river and a cougar den and what looked like a massive patch of potentially poisonous mushrooms that seemed to go on for several meters. Needless to say, they had to camp out overnight, and figure out a detour in the morning.

"We should be almost there," Minho replied. "Thomas, are there any more of those granola bars in your backpack?"

"Nope," Thomas replied. "There are flavorless biscuits, though. An excellent source of no nutrients."

Minho groaned. These past few days had been tiring, and running out of granola bars was the second to last straw…

"What is that smell?" Thomas said.

The three companions simply stood where they were, the boys' stomachs threatening to be upset, and Teresa starting to feel as if her day just got better.

"This odor is really familiar!" she commented gleefully. "I wish I remembered where I'd smelled it before..."

They continued walking, only to find themselves in a small clearing covered in pleasant green grass. There were several large stones around the middle of the clearing, and there seemed to be tufts of golden grass sticking out from behind one of the rocks.

"That poor grass," Thomas said. "It must be hard trying to grow where rocks are, without soil and waters and all that good stuff. No wonder it's all ugly-looking, and… Oh, my word! The grass is moving!"

He hid behind Teresa.

"I recognize those eyes!" Teresa said. "Newt! You're here! Just like Geb said!"

"What?" Newt asked, lifting his head above the rock. His hair was so messy and dirty, it really did look like old grass. "That hippy told you to come here?"

His three friends walked to where he was sitting in between the rocks.

"Have you been here all night?" Minho asked.

"Yup," Newt replied. "I'm not allowed to leave, either. If I try, those two 'squatches just tackle me and drag me back over here. It's horrifyingly annoying, if you know what I mean. Oh, and by the way, they should be back soon. You might want to leave before that."

"Why don't you leave with us?" Teresa asked. "I mean, if someone's taken you captive, I really think you should try to escape."

"No, they'll find me," Newt replied. "Their sense of smell seems just that fabulous."

"You said they were 'squatches'," Minho said. "What exactly are those?"

"Sasquatches," Newt replied.

"No, seriously."

"I'm being serious. If you wait around too long, you'll definitely… Oh, crap. They're back."

The two Sasquatches came out of the woods into the clearing. They stood over seven feet tall, walked on two legs, had reddish-brown fur, and, the instant they got a few yards from the three companions of their human captive, they started letting out strange sounds and made themselves look as aggressive as possible.

"I thought that smell was familiar!" Teresa said, smiling. "Hey, hairy wild guys!"

She started walking towards the Sasquatches, who seemed shocked for a second that someone wouldn't be afraid of them. They then bared their teeth, which didn't daunt Teresa in the least. She simply kept walking towards them, holding out her hands to show she had no threatening intentions. Well, that she had no weapons. She could still easily have slapped one of them.

The two cryptids tried screeching and hollering, though that only made Teresa giggle.

"You two are just old softies, aren't you?" she said. "How about I make a deal with you- if you let my friend go, I will help you pick blackberries? I noticed some bushes a while back, and your hands are too large to reach in between those vines. What do you say?"

Her audience didn't seem to completely comprehend what she was saying, though her voice was apparently soothing enough for them to gradually stand still and stare.

Teresa slowly walked backwards, then turned around.

Looking back, she said, "Come along, wild guys!"

They seemed to understand that command, and followed her across the clearing, back into the woods, and towards a blackberry bush. Teresa gathered several large leaves, and quickly got to picking blackberries.

"Hurry up and help me," she said to her three companions. "We haven't got all day."

Newt, Minho, and Thomas started helping Teresa pick blackberries, placing them on the leaves which had been organized on the ground. After a decent amount had been picked, they picked up the leaves the blackberries were on, and carried them towards the rocks in the clearing. Finally, all the blackberries had been transferred.

"Now, let's go," Teresa said. She walked over to Newt and grabbed his arm, then looked each of the two Sasquatches in the eye. She then started to walk away, leading Newt away with her. One of the Sasquatches started to make a sound, but Teresa quickly let out her own loud cry, which quieted him.

"Thank you," she replied.

She and her three companions then left the clearing, and went back in the direction they'd come from.

"They weren't bad now, were they?" Teresa commented. "Just a little childish, that's all. They wanted someone to trade something for their new toy."

"I don't quite think I like the idea of being a toy," Newt said. "Still, they probably aren't used to seeing humans in this area. They certainly frightened me to death when I first saw them."

"You never mentioned before that you're familiar with Sasquatch," Thomas said to Teresa. "Is this from before you moved to Quebec?"

Teresa was silent for a moment.

"I don't know," she finally replied.

After walking through detours, over creeks, and around eery-looking swamps, Thomas said, "It seems like Geb's whole 'less than an hour away' information was useless."

"Not really," Minho said. "We simply had to add minutes, though, crows-wise the destination was still less than an hour from the Glade. I guess Ella's brother was right all along."

Teresa said, "I don't think it was he who was right. He's very humble, and doesn't take any credit for that sort of thing, always thanking God. I chatted with Ella the other day, and she says she and Geb were raised as Pentecostals, though she also admitted she thinks she has no spiritual gifts."

"She sure is gloomy," Minho said. "I remember when she was tricking Lennon into thinking she was a real kindhearted calico snail turtle, she never seemed to stop smiling. She also did detailed pencil drawings, and sang Siouxsie and the Banshees songs on Friday afternoons. Her voice actually wasn't that bad. Now that her true evilness has shown, though, I realize she's nothing but a down-in-the-dumps jerkfaced quagmire of quackery."

Everyone was quiet for a moment. They knew better than to get Minho complaining about Ella. The silence seemed to last for a few minutes.

Finally, Newt spoke up.

"Sorry, Minho."

Minho was shocked.

"What on earth are you apologizing for?" he inquired.

"Well, I should apologize to all of you, for giving everyone such a scare, though I'll do that once we get back to the Glade. I'm saying sorry to you, though, because of the things I said and did the other night. I shouldn't have gotten defensive and picked fights with you."

Minho didn't quite know how to reply.

"You shouldn't worry about that thing," he finally said. "Thomas also got defensive, though I'm not quite sure why, and he still hasn't apologized to me. And I don't even care. There's no need to. Right now what matters is that you're safe." He then cleared his throat, and said, "Really, I should be the one apologizing to you, Newt. And, I really should apologize to Lennon, for blaming him and all that."

"I'm sure Lennon will forgive you!" Thomas said perkily.

"Lennon is a saint," Teresa added. "Still, it must be hard being accused and spoken harshly to by one's favorite cousin."

The sun was starting to set, and the crickets and frogs were starting to sing their nightly chirp-chirp-croak ballad. Day birds flitted about, heading towards their nests, and night birds stretched their wings and soared out, heading away from their nests.

"If we start walking faster," Minho said, "we might be able to reach the Glade before it gets too dark. If only we…"

Suddenly, there was a loud, piercing sound up ahead of the four companions.

"What in the blue blazes was that?!" Thomas exclaimed.

"It was probably nothing," Teresa replied. "Those loud noises go off all the time when you're in the woods."

The three boys stared at Teresa.

"What do you mean?" Newt asked. "I mean, you seem used to living in the woods."

"Of course." Teresa laughed jovially. "Grandpa Jed did most of his criminal activities in the woods, and I must have lived near or in a forest during my formative years before being adopted. Oh, the glorious feeling of being surrounded by a bunch of trees and crazy wild animals which could tear me to bits and eat my bones and muscles and fingernail-filled appendix!"

"Life sucks," Newt said.

"Still, what exactly is the noise, Teresa?" Thomas commented. "Do you have any idea?"

The piercing call started again, but closer this time. It sounded wild, weird, unearthly. There was the sound of light walking, and, in the shadows, a tall shape seemed to be coming towards them.

The three boys started to shudder, and looked about ready to run, but the creature finally showed up in the clearing. It was a stag, with light brown fur and a beautiful rack of horns. It looked at the four humans for a second, then walked over to the right in the direction of wherever it wanted to be headed.

"That's all it was?" Minho asked incredulously. "I thought it was going to be another Sasquatch, or a monster, or something."

"Aren't the woods absolutely wonderful?" Teresa smiled. "Come on, let's get going!"

They eventually reached the Glade, about half an hour after the sun had set.

"They're back!" hollered out a random extra Glader who won't have a name in this story.

Soon, the four companions were surrounded by other Gladers. Everyone made way for Amir Jafar, though, who walked right up and engulfed Newt in his arms.

"You imbecile!" he said. "Faking a suicide? How the hell did you get an idea like that?"

Newt returned the hug, enjoying the familiar feel of his stepbrother's protective love.

Amir Jafar let go of the blond.

"Go get a change of clothes and some soaproot," he said. "I'll fill up the bathtub. You smell like a zoo."

"You have no idea," Newt replied. He started to laugh, then he realized how hurt Amir Jafar looked, as if his "death" had really had a bad emotional impact. Their relationship was bound to be strained for quite a while. Not all was well, but at least things were sort of okay for now.

People started to disperse, going back to their mindless late evening tasks.

Minho found himself still standing where he'd been surrounded a moment ago. He was now alone. It felt strange, being alone without being in a small, closed-in room.

Lennon was walking in Minho's direction, Matthew trailing closely behind.

"Are you hungry?" Lennon asked his cousin.

"No," Minho replied.

"I made kimchi today."

"Oh, good. I feel half-starved. Bring me a large bowl, and I'll just stay sitting outside, since the weather's so nice and all, and…" Minho stopped talking, his face turning a little red. "Yeah, thanks. Please bring me some."

Lennon and Matthew were laughing, but, within less than a minute, Lennon had gone to the kitchen and came back with a bowl of kimchi and a bowl of rice with a spoon sticking straight up in it.

"This brings back my childhood," Minho commented as he started eating. "Call it a stereotype, but Koreans love kimchi."

"I thought you were Korean-Quebecois, not Korean," Matthew said.

Minho raised an eyebrow at his cousin's wild-haired friend.

"You know," he said, "today I saw two weirdos with hair as unkempt as yours."

"Really?" Matthew's face brightened. "Were they nice?"

Minho shrugged, stuffing his mouth with more fermented cabbage.

"You came back much later than expected," Lennon said. "Did you run into any trouble finding Newt?"

"Yeah," Minho replied, switching to speaking Korean. He was tired of Matthew hanging about. "Those woods are just no place for something like him to spend time in. Also, when we found him, I couldn't have been more horrified."

"Was he starving, or dehydrated, or dying, or something?" Matthew asked, in Korean.

Minho's eyes opened wide with shock.

He then coolly replied, " He was actually quite healthy-looking. He must have had plenty to eat and drink. His captors, though, the two weirdos, were definitely not human. I don't know if either of you believe in Sasquatch…"

"We do," Lennon replied.

"Um… Anyways, Newt was being held in semi-captivity by two Sasquatches. Teresa, who amazes me more and more everyday, was able to make a deal with them, and we got Newt back."

"That's so wonderful!" Matthew said. "Now he's safe and sound, and I'm not going to let him do anything unsupervised again, though he might have learned some valuable lessons along the way."

"Again?"

Lennon and Matthew were quiet, Minho staring at them suspiciously.

"You both seem oddly calm," he said. "It's like you're putting on a front. Also, Lennon, you made me food, and now Matthew mentions the whole 'again', thing. What's going on?"

"Do you really think I've done anything to warrant your anger or disapproval?" Lennon inquired, not really lying. "I've made you food before, and you're getting all like, 'Lenny's up to some devilish no good!' Why can't you trust that I'm just being nice?"

"Your niceness, though, could be backing up someone," Minho replied. He glared at Matthew. "What did you do?"

Silence.

"No one else may really notice, but I know when my cousin is keeping secrets, and I know he doesn't directly lie," Minho said. "Which makes me think you're the guilty one, Matthew. You can't make things look all normal so that I'll be in a good mood in case there's a slip-up."

"Lennon simply likes being calm," Brenda said, walking in the direction of the boys. "He also commonly does nice things for you. If he's keeping a secret, it's not in connection with how he's treating you at the moment."

"Brenda," Minho said. "Since when did you get here?"

"I just left the Healing Shed right now," Brenda said. "I decided to dote on Newt after everyone else had a chance."

"Well… stop hassling me. Whatever I have to talk to Lennon about, I can… Wait a second! You know Korean, also? Since when are all you people learning Korean?!"

"I only know a little bit," Brenda replied. "It's enough to know whatever simple crap you talk about. I couldn't ever understand Lennon when he speaks in Korean though, considering…" She was about to say, "Considering he always talks about intelligent things," but she felt it wouldn't be appropriate to compliment her ex too highly, at least so soon after the break up.

She shook her head roughly, then said, "Fine. Whatever. Minho, if you want, go ahead and verbally bully the two non-manly guys, since you're obviously so jealous of their closeness."

As she walked away from the three boys towards the Homestead, she couldn't resist the nagging idea that she still thought so highly of Lennon. She really wondered why she'd broken up with him in the first place, until she realized just a couple days ago she'd been given news she couldn't immediately deal with.

"He was even patient with my cognitive dissonance," she muttered to herself. "He didn't even get angry with me for rethinking our relationship. I don't know why some of our friends got all divided up and mudslinging, though. I mean, was it really any of their business?"

"Who are you talking to?!"

Brenda jumped up in surprise. Turning around, she saw Olivia.

"I was just taking a walk, then I heard you talking to yourself like a crazy person!" Olivia giggled. "Are you sad, or something?"

Brenda smiled, then said, "I was just thinking aloud. By the way, what would you do if someone you loved told you something about themselves and you didn't know how to deal with that information?"

"Hey, that's just like…" Olivia started to say.

Brenda felt nervous.

"...when Gally told me he didn't actually like chocolate cake! It hurt my feelings for a while, because I would make him a chocolate cake whenever I got to see him, but then I realized I could make other things, like apple pie, or zucchini pie, or brussel sprouts with honey pie! He really likes pie! One time, though, a few months ago, he made _me _a chocolate cake, and it made me so happy! Another time, I found out that my mother used to drink vodka in her cereal, and it made me sad, because my grandmother doesn't approve of drinking anything besides Eucharistic wine, so, then…"

"I get the picture," Brenda said. "Thank you, Olivia."

"You're welcome! You know what, Brenda? You're a really nice person! So are the other people here at the Glade! Back in Naples, people always made fun of me, for some reason. I thought it might be because I'm fat, or extremely perky. I'm really glad we're here in the Glade. This is the funnest place I've lived in. I wish my grandmother was here to enjoy it."

"We're certainly fortunate, Olivia. Living here is a privilege no one ever expects to see in their lifetime."

**A few days later. **

"It's such a shame you're leaving so soon!" Alby said. "At least you're coming back in a few days! On behalf of the whole Glade, I wish you a farewell!"

It was midmorning, and all the Gladers were outside, seeing off the priestess and doctor.

"Thank you, Alby," Mother Paige said. "Once we're done testifying in court against Dr. Janson and the late Imam al Jinnah, you won't have to wait too long for our return."

"Speaking of leaving," Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang said, "when is that helicopter getting here? I'm already prepared for an uncomfortable aerial trip, and it's already half an hour late." She looked at Lennon. "Be sure to brush your teeth every night."

"Yes, Mom." Lennon groaned. His mother knew full well that he brushed his teeth, but, for some reason unknown to him, she kept reminding him.

"And make sure Minho behaves," Dr. Schliwinksy-Kang continued. "Summer is ending, which means autumn will come, which means the next season's batch of grass allergies will be coming. You know how hay fever affects his temper."

"Well, considering how every season is allergy season over here," Brenda said, "I'll be busy as normal keeping everyone's splitting headaches from demobilizing them."

"Oh, Brenda!" Mother Paige said. "Even though you're Protestant, you're a wonderful enough person to be canonized as a saint! What would all these sickly people do without you?"

"They'd suffocate," Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang said. "That's what they'd do."

**An hour later. **

"I hate those helicopters," Teresa said to Jenny. "The force of their spinny things makes everyone fall flat to the ground. It's so annoying!"

"I hate helicopters also, but for different reasons," Jenny replied. "You see, when I was little, I was on a helicopter because my mother was taking me on a meeting that she was having in Panama…"

"Panama, Central America?!"

"No. Panama, Alberta. It's a pleasant town. You should visit it. Anyways, I fell out of the helicopter, and…"

"Wow! No wonder you hate helicopters!"

"Well, the helicopter had already landed. I just skinned my knee. That's all."

"Jenny!" Jusun hollered, running towards her friend. "I've got great news!"

"No news is good news," Jenny said. "Unless it's from an article in _The Nosies _newspaper."

"No, this is amazing news!" Jusun panted, trying to regain her breath as quickly as possible. "I was somehow able to manage getting that old rusty radio in the storage room to work, and the program I was listening to said that North Korea has finally relented, and allowed my grandmother to take back her rightful place as Empress of the Two Fair Nations!"

"Well, she worked hard enough to regain South Korea," Jenny said. "Though, establishing an egalitarian constitution as well as a concise and well-thought-through plan for utilizing taxes kind of makes one quite popular, even if the country has gone through two years of having a semi-stable republic."

"That republic was crap!" Jusun hissed. "It forced my grandmother to live like a powerless regular politician who had to rely on manipulation and money laundering! Now she can make an honest living under her regained absolute monarchy!"

Teresa said, "To be honest, I'm happy that she got her dream job back. I sure wish I knew what my dream job was…"

"Jusun!"

"Minho!" Jusun exclaimed, smiling. "Come to Noona, Minho! I've got some excellent news for you to hear!"

Once Minho reached her, Jusun grabbed both of his hands and looked him in the eye.

"I'm now a princess again!" she said.

"That's all right and fine, Jusun Noona," Minho replied. "Though it won't change much for me, because I already think of you as a queen."

"Oh, you're so sweet!" Jusun giggled in an earsplitting fashion. She then pinched her boyfriend's nose. It was sickening to behold.

**A fortnight later.**

Brenda had had enough stressing about it. She wanted to get back together with Lennon, but there was still that nagging thought that he might not care about her. Considering how society described male-female relationships, the concern made perfect sense. So, she decided to come up with a plan to test Lennon's love.

"Geb," she said to him after lunch one day, "I want you to do me a favor tonight."

"If you want me to reorganize those bottles in the Healing Shed," he said, "I can do that. Though I don't think I'll be able to color-coordinate them, since you never specified if you wanted the colors to make a rainbow design or a color wheel."

"No, it's not that," Brenda said. "I want you to pretend like you're courting me."

"Oh, I see. You're trying to make Lennon jealous. It'll be just like in one of those TV dramas. I have one condition, though- I'm not going to kiss you. I think my fiancée actually has feelings for me, and I wouldn't want to do something to make her feel the way you want to make Lennon feel."

There was something kind of unsettling about how practical Geb was in his selflessness. Brenda was beginning to wonder if he even was an actual human. Still, you can't object to a person being kind-hearted, no matter how weird the manifestation of their disposition.

That night, after dinner, Geb went over to the table where Brenda was sitting. He stood behind her and placed his hands firmly on the table, on either side of her.

Smiling mischievously, he said, "So, wanna go on a walk?"

"Okay," Brenda replied, standing up and smiling. Using both of her hands, she took Geb by the arm and walked out of the cafeteria.

Lennon took notice of how Brenda and Geb were treating each other. It disturbed him. True, Brenda didn't seem interested in _him_ anymore, but why was she suddenly acting all flirty with Geb? It was just wrong, somehow.

_No, I shouldn't be thinking this way, _he said to himself. _They have every right to be together. This is a free country, anyways. _

Later on that night, he noticed while in the parlor that Brenda and Geb kept sitting next to each other on the sofa. While everyone else milled about, sitting at different places depending on who they wanted to chat with, Brenda and Geb were always with each other.

These past couple of weeks, Lennon had been waiting, hoping that Brenda would want to come back to him. He knew it was likely for her to never love him again, but this was too much to handle so soon. She was obviously enamored with Geb, for obvious reasons, considering he was intelligent, kind, charming, and didn't have emotions as strong as a typhoon. Yeah, he was probably good-looking, also. Lennon wasn't a good judge about what type of men Brenda thought were attractive.

Anyways, eventually, Geb took Brenda by the hand, and said, "We should tell everyone."

"What?" Brenda was surprised by this turn of events. She was starting to get concerned. What if something backfired in how everything was played out? Still, a result to work off of was better than nothing.

"Everyone," Geb said, "Brenda and I are officially a couple."

Friends applauded, and friends congratulated. There were even those who said Brenda and Geb made a perfect pair.

Lennon simply stared off into space.

"Lenny," Matthew said, "are you okay?"

"I… need to take a moment," Lennon eventually said.

He left the parlor and went into the hall. The emotions that had been building up for a while finally reached him, and he started crying. It felt immature, like crying over spilled pancake batter, but he couldn't help it. He felt like a worthless twig in the burn pile, unable to keep someone as marvelous as Brenda by his side.

"So you do care."

"Yes," Lennon replied, not turning around. "Please, Brenda, you don't need to comfort me or apologize or anything like that. Any pain I've caused you is my own fault, so please don't try to say, 'I hope it's not too tough on you that I now have Geb', or, 'You're actually not a part-way bad guy', or anything like that."

Brenda laughed. She then walked to where Lennon could see her.

"This was just a test," she said. "I wanted to get back together with you, but I wanted to see if you really did love me. Your lack of traditional attraction made me wonder if you possibly couldn't care less about the break up. Also, you were suspiciously calm when no one else was."

"Well, no one else was," Lennon replied. "I had to set a good example."

"Could you possibly give me another chance?" Brenda asked. "I'm willing to give you another chance- I've had more than enough time to think it over."

"I've been waiting and waiting for you to say that." Lennon smiled, his dimples showing in a way that reminded Brenda of two little diamonds.

_He must really trust my intentions, _she thought. _He doesn't seem cross at all about me faking a relationship with Geb. _

He opened his arms, which she gladly went into.

"You two are so perfect together!"

Brenda and Lennon both looked over to the side to see Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang standing down the hall.

"You know," the doctor said, "I used to think it ran through the family to make bad choices when it came to relationships. I guess I was wrong."

With that, she walked off, and turned a right into the parlor.

"When did she even get here?" Lennon inquired.

"I don't know," Brenda replied. "I thought that telegram said they'd be staying away extra long due to problems with the court proceedings."

"I guess Dr. Janson escaped, or something, so now the trial has been postponed."

"Well, it's not the first time my father's run away. There was that one time he was about to be executed in Utah for stealing prescription meds and selling them to the governor."

**Page break!**

"You did well. Now they're back together."

"Delilah, if there's one thing I'm good at, it _might _be helping people. Might be. But I wasn't the one who got them back together- it was Brenda being in the presence of a false lover that did that."

"Don't be so humble. Admit it. You're amazing."

"No human being is amazing in their own right. Once you admit that, you'll be able to start looking at yourself through God's eyes."

"You're too kind. I never deserved to have a brother like you. If there's one thing I can't stop being thankful for, it's the fact that I have you supporting and comforting me. I don't deserve anyone in our family loving me, but you've still openly regarded me as your darling sister."

"If a person gave love only to the humans who deserved it, that person would love nobody."

"Love. Kindness. Humility. Helping others. Being amazing. Maybe someday I'll remember how to live out those things. Maybe that's why we've been led here- by being away from society, I can have a chance to rethink and relive."

"It won't hurt to try."

**Three days later.**

"I can't believe we're moving already," Jenny said as she packed up. "I was certain this place would have that wall built up before the chocolate monsters started romping about. It's a good thing your grandmother chose to open up the Koreas as an asylum for us."

"Oh, she really respects the work of Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang," Jusun replied. "Also, she wants to take in asylum-seekers, but she knows she can't take in everyone on Earth. She simply decided to take in the group of people I was with."

Once they'd packed their suitcases, they headed down the stairs and out the door of the Homestead. A giant jet had been parked outside of the Glade. As the girls walked towards it, they looked left and right to make sure no chocolate monsters were frollicking in the fields.

"What's going to happen to the animals?" Jusun asked.

"I don't know," Jenny replied. "I know that the ripe vegetables have been boxed up and will be sent to a food pantry in a nearby town."

"There are towns nearby?"

"Apparently."

"But those animals… Winston and Teresa stopped killing them, so there are quite a few left. They can't survive in the wild…"

"Don't worry." Brenda walked right up beside Jenny and Jusun. "Mother Paige called up a sanctuary. Some people there will be coming with a few trucks this afternoon to pick up the animals. They'll finally be safe from butcher knives…"

"Do animals get killed by the chocolate monsters, though?" Jenny asked.

"Actually, I was thinking about that the other day. I figured that-"

Suddenly, there a piercing howl, and they noticed a chocolate monster walking their way.

"Run to the jet!" Jusun hollered.

Thankfully, the chocolate monster was sluggish after having eating a bee nest earlier that day, so the girls were about to drag their luggage behind them and still get into the jet on time.

After the last few Gladers got on the jet, it took off and headed towards the lovely airport at Seoul.

The plane ride was so long and boring, the Gladers all took turns counting and announcing the numbers of their nose hairs.

**In Seoul.**

"Welcome to the Two Glorious Lands!" a eunuch said as the Gladers got off the jet. "I hope you all find your time in our haven as good as anywhere else before this dreadful Flare struck our fine, peaceful planet."

"Her Majesty wishes for you all to take the Happy People Bus all the way to your new home at Saint Kateri's Abbey," another eunuch said.

Swinging from a rope attached to one of the airport building's parapets, Dr. Janson suddenly appeared and shouted, "And I wish for you all to watch me take over the world!"

All the Gladers gasped.

Until they saw Janson let go of the rope and accidentally fly right into the side of a nearby tall building.

Honestly, it looked really painful.

**I hope to update... at a decent time! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Be sure to review! :)**


	11. Chapter 11: Life's Not Always Cupcakes

**Hello! It is I, back in the U.S. from my two-month-plus stay in Taiwan! This time, I am presenting you with the (possibly) penultimate chapter of this particular story. I must warn you that this chapter will not be as light-hearted as the others. It'll be interesting to see what all of your reactions are. **

**Trigger/content warnings: Descriptions of death, brutality, violence, vivisection, trauma/PTSD, mental instability, capital punishment, grieving, possible mention of drug use, &amp;tc.**

**Happy reading! :D **

"I can't believe Evil Janson is making us trek across the North all the way to his outpost just across the border in Siberia!" Alby said to Newt. "As my second-in-command, I command you to command that evil fluffinmuffin to give us an explanation!"

"I think it's more of the 'Trials' rubbish," Newt replied. "Now, please be quiet. You're giving me a headache."

"How on earth am I giving you a headache?! How?!"

"You'd think the empress would somehow have let us stay at the abbey longer… But no! Simply because Dr. Janson used to work with Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang, she thinks we have to do everything Janson wants us to! Even when Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang spoke out against the trek! It's almost like…"

"Stop your whining, Newt. You're giving me a headache."

"Now look who's talking! You're such a hypocrite, Alby! It's almost like… What on earth?! Is that Geum Jan Di over there?!"

Sure enough, standing in front of the Gladers, who'd been trekking for five days straight through the North Korean wilderness with no food and water but tons of lemon juice, was the illustrious and now-rich Geum Jan Di! And she was surrounded by tubs of ice cream!

"Hiya, guys!" she said, eating from a tub of mango-and-apple ice cream with a spoon so shiny everyone within one mile was blinded for a brief second. "Are any of you hungry?"

Gladers rushed over and picked up the tubs of ice cream. Using their hands, they scooped out ice cream and gobbled it at speeds only a starving person could be capable of. Thomas quickly downed a tub of chocolate ice cream, which no one seemed to notice, while Teresa ate some lychee-flavored ice cream. Ben grabbed the tub out of her hand, mumbling something unintelligibly, so Teresa simply shared with Minho and Jusun.

Brenda was tempted, but knew that eating the ice cream would not only support oppressive organizations and companies, but would also give her not-used-to-dairy stomach an impulse to commence vomitous indigestion.

"I found this 'chocolate nirvana' soy ice cream at the store the other day…" Jan Di said, holding up a small tub to gaze at it in the sunlight.

Brenda instantly reached for it, grabbed it, and started eating.

"You all must be really hungry," Jan Di said. "Why don't you all come over to my husband's secret mansion in this fine wilderness countryside?"

"Why would South Koreans like you and Jun Pyo have a mansion in North Korea?" Brenda asked in between bites.

"I said it was a _secret _mansion," Jan Di explained. "His rich mother likes setting up houses illegally in weird countries, like Genovia. Anyways, you all should come. Jun Pyo will order the overworked maids to make us all a delicious feast!"

"We should go!" Jusun said. "We're all hungry, anyways."

"Yeah!" Minho added. "It sounds like fun!"

"It's a total miracle we bumped into Jan Di," Frypan said. "Though I'm first gonna have to look at the condition of their kitchen!"

"Wait a second, guys!" Teresa said. "Doesn't this seem a bit suspicious to you? Why would the wife of a multi-trillionaire…"

"A multi-bazillionaire," Jan Di corrected.

"...A multi-'bazillionaire'," Teresa continued, "be out in the wilderness with a bunch of frozen treats? Also, why would she invite us all to her house? I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she's doing this as a favor for Dr. Kang and Mother Paige…"

"Who are those two people you're talking about?" Jan Di inquired.

"Teresa has a point," Lennon said. "Everything Teresa said about Jan Di's behavior is suspicious. Also, this whole scenario is slightly reminiscent of that one part in _Watership Down_…"

"You mean the part where blood comes out of Bigwig's neck?!" Thomas started to cry. "That means Jan Di is luring us to a rabbit trap! We're gonna die!"

"Added to that," Brenda said, scooping up the last bit of ice cream with her finger, "why would we feel safe going to a house where the cold, heartless Gu Jun Pyo lives? It'd be like paying a visit to Walt Disney."

"Walt Disney was a wonderful man who made children's dreams come true," Alby said, "despite being racist, misogynist, and a bunch of other things. Gu Jun Pyo is a nice, handsome man who made Jan Di's dreams come true, despite being an abusive control-freak who was easily swayed into a greedy, corporation-driven world of money lust."

"Okay, then," Brenda replied. "It'd be like paying a visit to Donald Tr…"

"Donald Duck?!" Thomas finished the sentence, incorrectly, of course.

"I just realized," Olivia commented, "that this situation is also like the Hansel and Gretel story."

"That's the one about the boy who turns into a puppet, isn't it?" Newt asked. "Sorry, but honestly, an open declaration to anyone who objects to Jan Di's hospitality: We were all starving just a few minutes ago. We don't know when we'll have another chance to eat food. We should just go, since there's probably nothing to lose."

The stupid decisions of a large group of desperate people is pitiful. I wish the Gladers hadn't gone to the secret Gu-Geum estate, but, as the author of this story, I need to tell the truth about the lives of these characters… unlike James Dashner, who made up some wild story, with Thomas being the main character for some reason, and everyone getting as little quality scene-time/screen-time as possible. Jack fired Mr. Dashner from the biography-writing department after his trilogy started to be made into movies, only further spreading lies and rubbish.

Anyways, needless to say, the secret Gu-Geum estate was basically a giant house in the middle of the wilderness countryside, which, for some unknown reason, had not yet been detected by the former North Korean government. It had tons of stairs with banisters to slide down, as well as shiny marble floors, shiny cedar floors, shiny steel floors, and dull linoleum floors. It also had a giant dining room with a giant table already full of tons of food by the time the Gladers arrived there.

"Eat all you want!" Jan Di said. "And don't worry about my husband arriving any time soon, you worry-warts! He's off in Macau, again, doing business, again, wearing nothing but suits, again."

As everyone started eating, into the dining room walked none other than Ji Hoo himself. He gazed at everyone in the room, then walked over to Jan Di, whispering something in her ear.

"I know," she told him. "I was thinking the same thing." She cleared her throat, and pointed at Lennon. "You there. Could we have a brief friendly word with you?"

"I'd rather not," Lennon replied.

"Why not?" Jan Di appeared to be trying to look emotionally hurt, but it wasn't working.

"Do I have to explain why not?" Lennon tried to sound as gentle as possible.

Geb whispered into Lennon's ear, "They won't harm you. They'll harm anyone else here, but not you."

Lennon tried to see if Geb was serious. He noticed a certain light in the strange male's eyes, a rather otherworldly light. It gave Lennon a feel of security.

"Fine," he said, "I'll speak with you two."

Lennon followed Jan Di and Ji Hoo out of the dining room.

Once in the hallway, Lennon asked them, "So, what is it you were wanting to say?"

"You're exactly who we were looking for," Ji Hoo said, giving Lennon eery smile. Or, was it eery? It was almost like the smile could be viewed as kind and caring if the hall had been well lit instead of full of just candles.

"I'm glad you've been looking for me," Lennon said, "though that doesn't really answer my question."

"I can understand that you don't understand," Ji Hoo said. "Jan Di, could you please give us a moment?"

"Oh, good," Jan Di said. "I was wondering when I could finally get a chance to participate in eating the feast…"

She walked into the dining room, leaving Ji Hoo alone in the hallway with Lennon.

"You may not like this news, considering it may not have been told to you ever," Ji Hoo said. "But I know one of my kind when I see one, and it's good to finally see one. Are you full-blooded, or only part-blooded? I'm half-blooded, from my mother's side. Wait, I forget. Do you know what you are?"

"Um… A person?" Lennon was confused. "A human person?" He was hoping his host's soulmate wasn't going to try and discuss race and ethnicity. Lennon had no time to deal with that sort of discussion.

"A human person, partly," Ji Hoo replied. "But that's not the face of a common human, or even an actual human. What I mean to say, is, you're obviously at least part Kro'apleiatkan." The word was strangely pronounced, and had a strong glottal stop between the O and the first A.

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me," Lennon coolly replied. "My halmeoni had lots of affairs, and none of her children look a thing like my grandfather, so if I'm part-whatever, I couldn't be too bothered."

"I recognize you from the official website of that one pop star," Ji Hoo said. "He has pictures of his family on there, though, to protect privacy, there are no names. That is your grandfather, correct?"

"Yes, he's the one who left my halmeoni," Lennon said.

"Then, judging by the family history I was able to look up," Ji Hoo continued, "you must be one-fourth Kro'apleiatkan. According to accounts which I've been able to dig up, due to the power of giving people money, about forty-six years ago the halmeonim had a lover who immigrated to Earth from Kro'apleiatk…"

"That lover might explain my father and Uncle Harry, who are identical twins," Lennon interrupted, "but are you implying that I'm… part…"

"Yeah, you're basically descended on certain family lines from aliens. Isn't that fascinating? My mother was the daughter of two immigrants. You'd be surprised at how easy it is to assimilate into the many primitive societies and cultures here on Earth. Humans are easier to get along with than many other types of primates, though certain canine species won't care if you're a hairless biped."

This totally sort of rocked Lennon's world. Still, that would explain why Harry was so bitter against weirdos- he was trying hard to seem normal, despite what he knew about himself- and why Jack was so friendly to everyone- he didn't want anyone to feel like they had to be normal.

That would mean Whippoorwill was also one-fourth non-human. Was she even aware of this? Was this even true?

"How do I find out this isn't just you trying to trick me?" Lennon asked.

"You know it's true," Ji Hoo replied. "You've always known there's something different about you."

"That's because I'm an actual individual. What about you? Your makeup is done perfectly like any old fake face, which makes me certain you've found yourself trapped in society's mold of depressing averageness."

"You do realize I'm a music composer, don't you?"

"And a doctor. As my mother has said before, modern medicine is like a jail cell full of candy and dollar bills."

Ji Hoo laughed.

"You know," he said, "it's a shame that…"

"Are you two done talking yet?!" Minho barged into the hallway. "What in the blazes is he saying to you, Lennon? Wait. You look like you're enjoying yourself."

"Our host and her soulmate sure are creeps," Lennon said, "though I can safely say they tell me good news that is both earth-shaking… or, rather Kro'apleiatk-shaking… yet calming."

"I'm getting a little concerned, Lennon." Minho cleared his throat, nervously. "Actually, I'm a little scared. What exactly has this weirdo told you?"

"That, as long as I'm on Earth, I'll be a bit of a weirdo, also."

Brenda just then walked into the hallway.

"Minho," she said, "you were supposed to bring Lennon back into the dining room. You're bad at your job, aren't you? Nah, just kidding. I love you, Minho. Now, Lennon, what did Geum and Whatever-His-Surname-Is have to tell you?"

"Another thing about me that you might not accept," Lennon replied. "I'll have to learn to accept it, also."

Ji Hoo then gently placed his hands on Lennon's shoulders, and kissed him on the head.

"Now," he said, "while I'm in a good mood, please take your companions away from this place. Please. Before Jan Di and I start our nightly ritual."

Lennon opened the door to the dining room. Looking in, he saw no one at the table.

"They're all gone," he said.

"Well, I tried to be nice for once," Ji Hoo said. "Still, if you want a chance at saving all those humans, they'll be in the basement."

Figuring out the way to the basement was complicated. There seemed to be an endless number of trapdoors and hidden staircases. Lennon, Brenda, and Minho finally reached the basement though, only to find tons of cages packed with humans on one side of the giant room, all of whom were talking, crying, screaming, and arguing loudly, and, on the other side, and odd assembly line with which people were hanging from their feet. A giant, round saw was set up near one end of the assembly line, and the assembly line itself lead to a door with the word "butchery" written above it.

"Oh, my word!" Brenda exclaimed. "This is a slaughterhouse!"

"Which cage are the other Gladers in?" Minho asked.

"I think I hear their voices coming from that direction." Lennon pointed at one corner of the room. "Minho, do you still remember how to pick just about any type of lock?"

"I guess," Minho replied. "Does either of you have a bobby pin or pocket knife or thumbtack, or something?"

"I have a pen," Brenda said.

"That'll work," Minho said. "I hope our host doesn't arrive until after I'd had a chance to take care all of these cages."

"Lennon," Brenda said, "I know how to unlock the foot bondages over those people hanging from the assembly line, if they're anything like those in regular slaughterhouses."

The three companions quickly got working to set all the humans free.

After all the Gladers had assembled at the basement-slaughterhouse door to leave, Minho noticed something.

"Where's Newt?" he asked.

"He got taken away, and no one's been able to exactly give me directions besides, 'It's on the fourth floor'," Amir Jafar replied. "Geum Jan Di said she was taking him to her personal vivisection lab." He closed his eyes, and tears started to slip out. "If it only didn't come to this…"

"What's a vivisection lab?" Minho asked.

"It's where they do surgery or dissection on a living creature while it's awake for experimental purposes," Brenda replied. "The one performing the vivisection will probably perform some sort of test on the one being vivisected."

Minho's eyes and mouth opened way wide, and a weird, strained sound came out.

"What's wrong with Minho?" Alby asked. "He looks like he just saw La Llorona go through a drive-through."

"I think Minho might need to go to the bathroom, again," Thomas said. "There's a perfect spot in that cage for defecating, Min."

"Does anyone know where the vivisection lab is?" Brenda tried to shout above the noise of all the people running about the slaughterhouse like headless chickens. "Excuse me? Excuse me!"

Teresa then shouted, "EVERYBODY SHUT UP!"

The room went completely still and silent.

"Thank you," Brenda said. "Does anyone know where exactly on the fourth floor the vivisection lab is?"

"Just take the elevator," someone said. "It's in the butchery. There's a special yellow brick button that will lead you to the green lab. It's mint green, so you'll know you're there."

Brenda and Teresa headed in the direction of the butchery.

"I'm going with you!" Winston said.

"No, you won't," Teresa replied. "This will be a fight between women. I can't have you accidentally seriously injuring Geum Jan Di."

"I'll go with you, then," Olivia said. "I may not look like much, but you can't go without help."

The three young women headed into the butchery. Once they got the elevator to actually work, they pressed the yellow brick button. Before one can say Jack Robinson Crusoe, they were in the mint green vivisection lab. Humans were lain over what appeared to be several well spaced-out tables, most of whom were already opened up, as if Jan Di was in the middle of tampering with their organs. Their groanings were horrible to listen to.

"Where is Newt?" Teresa said. "Hopefully he's alright…"

"He's right there." Brenda quickly rushed over to one of the tables near the back of the lab. "Oh, thank goodness! He hasn't been tampered with, yet!"

Newt stared up at Brenda. He was wearing nothing but what appeared to be grey pajama pants, and he was fastened to the table with what appeared to be straps made of mammoth leather. Right next to him on the table was a tray, with a pair of scissors, tongs, a bottle of who-knows-what, and a series of small knives. Right next to the table was a bucket and mop, presumably to clean up any messes from his potential writhing.

"He has been tampered with!" Olivia shrieked. "Look! He has no body hair anymore!"

"That's how I naturally am," Newt replied. "Now, will someone untie me? I'm really dreading what will happen when Jan Di comes back."

"Too late for that!" Geum Jan Di entered the laboratory. "Now, I shall experiment on his heart and kidneys, because I can't think of anything truly creative today!" She was wielding, not a knife, but an actual sword. A scimitar, to be exact.

She started rushing over, and was about to drive a cut into Newt, when Olivia quickly reached out, grabbed the mop, and used it to quickly whack the sword out of the hand of a surprised Jan Di. Olivia grabbed the sword as it fell. Jan Di, though, kicked it out of Olivia's hand, and would have kicked the mop out of her opponent's hand as well, if Olivia didn't swing it out of the way, causing Jan Di to fall onto the floor.

Brenda and Teresa rushed over to Jan Di and, grabbing her by the arms and shoulders, kept her pushed to the ground. Jan Di kicked her legs up until they caught onto the girls' necks, bonking their heads together, making them let go of her. She then quickly got up from the ground, but not until Olivia had already started using the sword to hack at one of Newt's hand restraints.

Jan Di kicked Olivia in the side. The stout girl wasn't phased at all, and started cutting the other hand restraint. So, Jan Di decided to jump up and kick Olivia in the head. Teresa quickly grabbed Jan Di, holding her still by wrapping arms around her arms. Brenda quickly grabbed Jan Di's kicking feet, holding them still.

Newt, who by now wasn't restrained by his arms, used his now free hands to undo his leg restraints, which he used the incredibly strong scissors on the table to cut from the tables. He and Olivia, who seemed a bit dizzy, used those to bind the still-somewhat-kicking Jan Di's legs and arms.

"Well, while she's still restrained," Teresa said, "we might as well see who else hasn't been harmed yet. We can also call over some emergency doctors to tend to the injured."

"I might have a concussion..." Olivia muttered.

"You'll never get away with this!" Jan Di screamed. "My husband will pay the police to get you all imprisoned! You'll curse the day you dared to go up against me!"

"Oh, and by the way," Brenda said, "you know all those people in your slaughterhouse?"

"You didn't!" Jan Di looked furious.

"It really is none of your business," Brenda replied.

About five people were still on the tables without incision wounds or any of the like. They were thankful to the three young women who, in the process of saving Newt, had also saved them. They'd been taken out of a nightmare few humans can speak of.

**Later, at the beheading arena.**

"Geum Jan Di," the headsman said, "do you confess responsibility to the murder and torture of countless innocent people, as well as tax evasion and bringing exotic fruits into the country?"

"I do confess," Jan Di said.

"And do you, Yoon Ji Hoo," the headsman continued, "confess to being an accomplice in all of Geum Jan Di's crimes."

"I do confess," Ji Hoo replied.

The headman said to Jan Di, "Put your head on the block."

The axe was dull. It would take several hard whacks until the villain died.

"Stop one moment!" A young man rushed out of the stands and into the arena. "Doesn't the law of the land prohibit the execution of the mentally unstable?"

"Yes, it does," the headsman replied.

"Has anyone checked the medical records of these two guilty individuals?" the young man asked.

"The records have been checked." The headsman sighed. "You must realize, stranger, that these two have been evaluated, and there appears to be nothing wrong with them besides their own evil."

"Then why aren't they first sent down South? The law of the land also prohibits executions outside one's area of legal residence."

"The South is no place to send someone. Their prisons are overfilled, and they would either set these two criminals free, or order them to slowly starve in the back of some cramped jail cell. What is about to happen to these two individuals will be a mercy."

"Are there no prisons here?"

"This place used to be nothing but a prison. If you wish for these two criminals not to die, even after attempting to harm you and your companions, realize that this is merely the law of the land, which you seem to know so well. There's no way you could help them without turning yourself into a criminal, or, rather, siding with your abusers. It's evident that, if you're not simply more saintly than the rest of us, you already have developed Stockholm syndrome."

Without so much as another word, the young man was grabbed by two security officers. The headsman, shaking his head, commenced to chop off Jan Di's head.

After the head had been severed, and the crowd had hushed down, Ji Hoo gleefully shouted out to the young man, "Lennon, when you've had enough of this world, remember that you can always go to your home in the stars. Try it. What's the worst that could ever possibly happen? It's not like there's a fault in them."

Nine hard whacks later, Ji Hoo was in the same condition as Jan Di.

Dead.

**A few days later, in Annyeong. **

"What happened to this place?" Brenda asked. "I thought this city used to be an important political hub."

"Yeah, but it's fallen into disrepair," Jusun replied. "While my grandmother generally doesn't allow those infected with the Flare into her country, those who ran the place before her had different ideas. Thankfully, Annyeong is the last city in Korea where one can find all those cranky Flare-ridden sickies."

"Well, while we're here," Alby said, "I suggest everyone go into as many creepy, abandoned buildings as possible! We need to find food, and, despite what Brenda says, I don't really believe the mushrooms in that giant field are edible!"

Amir Jafar said, "I thought they were good-tasting. They also made me feel a little happier, to be honest. I even started to see color more vividly."

"It's better than starving…" Brenda muttered.

Everyone split up, agreeing to meet again in the town square in four hours. Brenda, Lennon, Minho, Benyamin, and Thomas were all in the group that was going to search through the subway system.

They tunnels themselves looked as if they hadn't been used since five years before they were constructed, and moss and mold was growing all along the walls. Thomas commented how the plants growing on and around a windowless train made the machine look like some sort of monster.

"I'm beginning to wonder why infected people wouldn't be allowed into the country," Lennon said at one point, poking at a pile of unidentifiable garbage. "I thought infected folks just died."

"But I think Mother Paige said that the Flare is getting more advanced, causing people to go insane before dying," Benyamin said, scratching the side of his face rapidly. "After getting infected, they try to fulfill all their perverse and carnal desires, like biting off people's heads and lighting city buses on fire."

"It's a good thing we're in a subway station, then," Thomas said.

"Listen," Brenda said, putting a finger to her lips. "Does anyone else here that sound?"

There seemed to be the soft sound of lumbering and scuffling footsteps. The sound got closer and closer.

"Let me guess," Minho said. "A creepy figure is going to jump out of the dark right in front of us?"

"Guess again," a voice said right behind his ear.

Minho jumped. Turning around, he saw a group of about thirty ragged, scruffy, and noseless people simply standing and staring at him and his companions.

The one who'd spoken into his ear spoke again.

"So, could you tell me…" he gazed at Minho's face intently, then stuck his finger up the terrified boy's nose, "... why is your face still intact? Tell me, when did you get sent here?"

"I'm just passing through," Minho replied, disturbed that such a large group of people could walk together so quietly. "_We _are all just passing through! We'll be leaving soon. No worries."

The noseless spokesman for the noseless subway posse dug his finger deeper up Minho's nose.

"Then you mean to tell me you've been untouched by the grace of the Flare?" He chuckled phlegmily, took his finger out of Minho's nose, then spit right into Minho's eye. "See if that doesn't infect you. You'll be deported for sure. Unless, of course, you're headed into Siberia. Then you'll just get really cold."

"When are we gonna attack?" a woman standing right behind the spokesman asked. "Are you just gonna try making them uncomfortable?"

"We'll first have to decide what to take from them, Rose," the spokesman replied. "Still, it should be obvious."

He jumped onto Minho, pushing him into the ground. The spokesman then proceeded to bite furiously at the boy's nose. The raggedy members of the noseless posse all commenced chasing the rest of Minho's companions, who could only start running away.

Thomas found himself running with Brenda down a tunnel that seemed to want to trip him. There were no lights whatsoever, and the broken train tracks were sticking out everywhere.

"Keep running," Brenda told him. "Don't look back."

"There's nothing to look back to!" Thomas replied, furious that Brenda would try telling him what to do at a time like this.

"Don't think about how we should have helped Minho," Brenda also said. "Just think about yourself for now." She knew how devoted Thomas could be to his friends.

There was the sound of loud cackling, as several of the cranky noseless gangbangers chased the two siblings for what felt like hours. Everything was pitch black, and Thomas bumped into a couple walls several times. At one point, he wasn't quite sure whether or not Brenda was still nearby.

Suddenly, he felt something grab at his arm.

"Into here," Brenda's voice said.

They must have gone into some sort of cupboard or closet, probably a storage room. How Brenda knew about it in this pitch black was beyond Thomas's understanding.

"Keep perfectly still," she whispered.

There was the sound of the noseless crankbags running past wherever they were.

"We'll wait here for a while more," Brenda said quietly. "Don't be afraid, Thomas. We'll leave Annyeong as soon as possible."

"But then where will we go?" Thomas replied. "We'll just return to Dr. Janson. Is there any hope in that?"

"Hope is a virtue. It has nothing to do with how you feel, or what you foresee. Now, try to be quiet."

It must have been over half an hour before Thomas heard the sound of someone fumbling at the wall.

"Are you searching for a lightswitch, Brenda?"

"No. I thought you were the one messing with the wall."

There was the sound of the door opening, which made them realize that the sound was coming from the outside all along. The bright light of a flashlight was shining in Brenda and Thomas's eyes.

"Who's there?" Brenda asked.

"It's me," a familiar voice said.

"Ben!" Brenda sounded relieved. "Goodness, Benyamin! You almost gave us both heart attacks! Where'd you find the flashlight?"

"None of your business," Benyamin replied. He was quiet for a moment, then pointed the flashlight at Thomas. "You. This is all your fault."

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked, nervous at the tone change in the light-bearer's voice.

"If you and other people weren't allergic to chocolate, Dr. Janson and Imam al Jinnah wouldn't have infected the world, and we wouldn't be chased in the dark like this," Benyamin grumbled. "They would have gone on some completely different exploit, and we would all probably be safe and warm in bed or our houses. You fiend."

"Benyamin," Brenda said, "I don't think you're thinking quite clearly. We've been through a lot. Let's just focus on getting out of here."

"There is no out of here," Benyamin argued. "I feel like I'm in a straightjacket. I must be free."

He lifted the flashlight a little, slightly illuminating his face.

"For a second, it almost looks like you don't have a nose," Brenda said, trying to laugh.

Ben lifted the flashlight completely. It was true. He had no nose anymore.

"Oh, mine!" Thomas exclaimed. "He's now one of those crank folk! That Flare virus must really be airborne like Dr. Kang said!"

"Ben," Brenda said, "please just leave with us. You couldn't possibly be bloodthirsty or anything. They just hurt your nose, that's all…"

"I did it myself," Benyamin replied. "Now, shut up, woman. I've got something I've been planning on doing for months."

He shoved Brenda out of the way, then jumped on top of Thomas. He had a chokehold on the toffee-haired boy, and pushed his knees against the boy's stomach.

Brenda stood up and tried to kick Ben in the neck, but found herself greatly disabled due to the battery light fading. She quickly moved the light so that it was shining at her brother getting killed, then quickly squeezed her arm between the boys to punch Ben in the diaphragm. Ben simply used one of his hands to punch her in the face, causing her to see stars for a second. By then, Thomas had passed out.

She then felt a surge of pain and let out a scream. In her brief daze, Benyamin had dislocated her arm. She was in too much pain to notice him beating Thomas's chest, breaking his ribs.

With what strength she could muster up last second, she dove at Ben and found herself tumbling out of the cupboard, clinging onto him with her good arm. She found herself on top of her opponent, only to hear a loud, cracking noise. Her opponent's body was perfectly still.

Brenda rushed back into the cupboard, and pointed the flashlight outside. Ben was lying on the ground, a spike from the broken train track stuck into the back of his head. She then pointed the light at Thomas, who was perfectly still.

She checked for breathing and a heartbeat. There was neither.

**Later.**

Back in the town square, Alby was counting all of the Gladers.

"There are three missing," he said. "Did anyone head into any trouble?"

"There were some crazy people chasing us around the subway station," Minho said. "We got split up. Brenda and Thomas went missing first, then Benyamin seemed to leave all on his own."

_Brenda's definitely all right, _Lennon thought to himself. _She's strong, capable, and can survive what we all just went through. Right?_

Just as he thought that, he noticed Brenda slowly walking towards the group.

"Brenda!" Lennon exclaimed, rushing towards her. "Why is your arm hanging limp like that? Is everything okay?"

With her good arm, she gently pushed Lennon away from her.

"Alby," she said, "from now on, take two people out of the number of Gladers."

"What happened?" Newt asked.

Brenda gazed at him, a sad look in her brown eyes.

She then bent over and let out a strange wail, which progressed into a high-pitched scream. Sobs followed, which then turned into sobbing mutterings. She simply stood there, feeling the trauma, helplessness, and guilt attack her.

It would be a long while before she would smile ever again.

**A couple days later.**

"Welcome to my super-duper secret research center!" the evil Dr. Janson said cacklingly as the Gladers all walked into the welcoming hall of his research center. "I've been expecting all of you."

"Shut up, Dad!" Brenda said. "We're all exhausted, and I doubt you'll be providing us with food and cots."

"What disrespect!" Janson glared at her with shock and anger. "And to think that I'd raised you better than this! I was hoping you'd always be by my side, supporting my scientific exploits in every way possible, becoming a symbol of submissiveness and parent-worshiping. One day, though, you will realize that-"

"Did you call us over to the research institute just to monologue?" Alby asked. "Because it's really boring to listen to."

Janson looked offended, appalled, shocked, embarrassed, hungry, ashamed, insulted, and argumentative. He'd never before met a group of such impudent children!

Just then, into the welcome hall rushed Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang.

"Archibald! You have to see this!" she said, holding up a folder full of papers. "This research shows that the chocolate vaccine isn't working to cure most Canadian victims of the so-called chocolate allergies. It's working on people outside of Canada, though."

"So?" Janson looked unimpressed.

"So the reason people in Canada are allergic to chocolate might have to do with what's in Canadian chocolate. It might not be the chocolate at all that's causing it."

"It could just be the type of sugar put in it," Geb suggested, picking at his teeth. "Or the fact that Canadian chocolate companies still put milk in their chocolate. Or the fact that all chocolate imported into Canada gets laced with a preservative that contains shrimp and other shellfish, which there has been an increase in allergies within the past decades related to eating such creatures." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That would explain why Thomas didn't die when I accidentally gave him twenty-three chocolate chip cookies, as well as a Trader Joe's eighty percent dark chocolate bar."

"Wait, so Thomas didn't have chocolate allergies?" Teresa asked. "He just had a shellfish allergy? So, in other words, the Trials weren't going to help him at all, and neither was Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang's research."

"Well," Janson said, "I guess we now have to come out with a shrimp allergy vaccine, then create a shrimp version of the Flare, then genetically mutate shrimp to run around on land chasing people. By the way, where is Thomas?"

"He's dead!" Ella said. "So go gouge out both of your eyes and eat them raw!"

"What a shame," Janson said. "I was planning on selling his organs on the black market, considering his genetic type is so rare. He gets it from me- I'm that awesome."

"Dr. Janson!" Olivia said. "How can you be so heartless?"

Dr. Janson laughed.

"It's because I'm a villain!" he said. He did his best villain laugh, which was more comical-sounding than actually frightening.

He put the Gladers all in a back room full of cages. Unsurprisingly, the whole situation reminded them of being in the basement slaughterhouse.

About half an hour after being locked into the cages, the Gladers heard the sound of someone entering the back room. A dark figure entered, and started unlocking the cage doors with a bobby pin.

"Mom!" Lennon said. "You know a bobby pin won't work! Use a ballpoint pen."

"I don't have one with me at the moment," Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang replied. "Also, I had to sneak away from Janson. He's monologuing again."

Once the Gladers were set free, she led them down a passageway to get out the backdoor.

Out the backdoor, though, everyone saw that Janson was already out there, preparing a bonfire. He hadn't lit it, yet. He was still in the setting up planks of wood stage of the bonfire development.

"Good day to you all," he said. "I was wondering if anyone wanted to popcorn the old-fashioned way with me. It's something I've always wanted to do, but never found the time to till now."

Just as he lit the match, and was about to set all the wood on fire, there was a screech in the distance. Running towards the two doctors and the Gladers was a chocolate monster.

"It can't be," Janson said. "I thought Ali Daoud programmed them to stay out of Siberia, due to lack of population density making it unprofitable."

"Seriously, Ali Daoud was a horrible man," Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang said. "He would never have worked hard enough to give the monsters geographic programming."

The monster reached where the humans were, then stopped running. It stared at everyone.

It then rushed towards Janson, tackling him, causing him to fall onto the sloppily-prepared woodpile. It then proceeded to try eating Janson, who was screaming in pain and fright.

Before anyone could make sense out of the situation, they noticed that more chocolate monsters were rushing in their direction. For some reason, though, they all rushed and attacked Janson.

It would have been impossible to save him, but, when the monsters all lost interest in him, or realized they couldn't get what they wanted, they left, and rushed back out into the distance. What was left of Janson was some torn pieces of cloth and a few bones, including part of his skull. There was also a half-eaten cell phone lying in the mess.

"It looks like the battery is gone," Ella said, grimacing. "I guess they sensed electricity coming from that far away, since those modern phones use up so many resources. It's not easy being a robotic chocolate monster this far in the wilderness. Good thing they aren't interested in human meat."

All the Gladers were horrified. Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang kept her composure, though.

"I guess that means," she said, "that Mother Paige and I can stop trying to find ways to get you children out of Janson's clutches. Now that he's gone, the Empress will listen to what we want, and I can shut down all the Grievers and chocolate monsters without him suing."

"What about those cranks with the Flare?" Minho asked, still greatly shaken from viewing the monsters attack Janson, and from the cranks attacking his still-scarred face. "What about all those people made violent by the virus?"

"They aren't much different than some of the folks involved in your country's civil war," Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang replied. "I would be more concerned about the innocent people caught in the middle of all those pointless conflicts. After helping them out of their problems, we must find solutions to deal with the crazies and the corrupt."

Brenda kept staring at what was left of her father's body. She couldn't imagine how awful it must be for him now, his soul burning in Hell for the rest of eternity. She dreaded becoming like him.

**Back in Quebec, a few months later.**

"Do you feel like talking today?" the doctor said.

"Maybe," Minho replied.

"If there's some stuff you aren't ready to talk about yet, don't worry. Rushing the healing process will only leave you even more damaged than before."

"But I've already been in this headshrinking prison for a month by now!"

"First off, this isn't a prison, it's a mental hospital. You're only forced to stay here because your PTSD makes you do violent things."

"So, it's like a prison. I do illegal things, like beat someone up, and have to stay here for a certain amount of time."

"Remember who you beat up, Minho. Most of them were friends. Anyways, secondly, we have people who've been in here more than a year. Staying here for over a month, even two months, is a short amount of time. Count your blessings. You're already good at talking things through."

Minho scowled.

"It's not fair," he said. "Not about me being here. I mean about the whole situation. Why did any of this have to happen? I can't blame Lennon. He did this to keep me from participating in a war. His intentions were altruistic. Sometimes at night, though, I lie awake cursing him, and I still think he's despicable. Filthy, murderous pacifist."

"Lennon came again today, wanting to speak with you."

"Why hasn't he been admitted to this prison? He's probably just as mentally insane as I am!"

"Minho, remember that Lennon is going to counseling, and, so far, he hasn't tried to harm anyone. He's just fortunate in how his trauma is being handled, that's all."

"It's not like he has anything to say to me. I've told him to not speak to me ever again. I was angry that time, though. I kind of regret it, but… Oh, well."

"He told me to hand this to you."

The doctor gave Minho a letter. The angry boy read it carefully.

It said:

_Minho,_

_Sorry I had to put this all in letter form, and couldn't speak to you in person. The person at the front desk said you weren't wanting to speak with visitors. If you'd only get better and permitted to leave, that'd add to how much wonderful stuff has been happening lately! My mother has distributed the vaccines to places in need, so the Flare is now becoming an obsolete rumor of the past, and, on a more personal note, her divorce papers have finally been signed and submitted. Brenda finally moved back to Illinois, and she's now working in her family's business, which is creating a lot of revenue for their tribe. Matthew, Newt, and I will be attending the same college this upcoming term, and Teresa has officially started her catechumenate. We must remember Jusun, though, whose ashes are being spread tomorrow. If only she hadn't had that car crash, she'd be visiting you everyday, beckoning you to leave the hospital. _

_Please come back. We all miss you. _

_With love,_

_Lennon_

Minho mumbled something that was completely unintelligible. Then, the tears started flowing.

"I don't think I can talk anymore today," he finally told the doctor.

**Page break.**

"It's such a shame you're leaving for Rhode Island so soon," Amir Jafar said in Grenouille's small, cozy cafe. "Still, I'm glad you're alright with having a long distance relationship."

"Of course I'm alright with it," Matthew said. "And of course we'll visit each other in person."

Amir Jafar smiled, then leaned his face in closer and closer to Matthew's…

"Amir Jafar!" Newt walked into the cafe right then. "Mum is wondering where you are!"

"Ugh…" Matthew groaned. "There's not a moment of peace with Newt around, that old third wheel." He couldn't help but smile, though.

"Tell Mom that I'm busy," Amir Jafar said.

"But you're not busy," Newt replied.

"I am, Newt."

"But it's not like it's an important sort of busy."

Matthew then laughed.

"Wow, Amir!" he said. "Your brother certainly doesn't side one hundred percent with you!"

Amir Jafar also laughed.

Suddenly, into the cafe walked Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang with a tall man dressed in black-and-white. They ordered their coffee, then commenced to talk.

"I think Lennon would like it," Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang said.

"Of course," the man said. "He seems shy, but it's obvious he still likes meeting people, under the right circumstances."

"And he finally gets to meet the rest of his family," the doctor said. "I shouldn't be saying this in public, but he'll be meeting his family among the stars. It… sounds so interesting."

"Family among the stars?" Newt sounded surprised.

"I guess he didn't tell you," Matthew replied, nonchalantly, sipping what was left of his tea.

"Didn't tell us what?" Amir Jafar asked.

"Don't say it!" Newt replied. "I've figured it out!"

He rushed over to where Dr. Schliwinsky-Kang and the man were sitting.

"Oh, hello, Newt," the doctor said. "I didn't notice either of you here. Let me introduce you to my ex-brother-in-law…"

"Is it true?" Newt asked, his eyes wide open. "Lennon is… an alien?!"

He gasped.

Then fainted.

**It's hard to imagine Jan Di and Ji Hoo being evil, though it's easy to imagine Janson being eaten alive by monsters of his own creation. Sorry for the slight crossover, though that's definitely not something this story is unaccustomed to. ^_^ Please be sure to review, and even write suggestions on how you want this story to end! :D**


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